


Before Now

by ClaraxBarton



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: 1x2x3, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2015-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-19 07:46:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 26,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2380454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClaraxBarton/pseuds/ClaraxBarton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two stories of friendship, love and loss told fourteen years apart.</p><p>1x2x3</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A/N: So, I blame this entirely on Free! but also on the fact that Penumbra is just a pile of horribly depressing nonsense right now and I can’t fix it yet.   
A/N #2: So… this is kind of an experiment, I guess. It’s really two stories, told at the same time, ten years apart.  
A/N #3: Not a cross-country expert. Just researching what I can. If any of you ARE runners and want to share precious intel I’m happy to hear it!

Warnings: Angst, language, sex, angst  
Pairings: 1X2X3 and others

Before Now  
Chapter One

Before

Heero wasn’t entirely sure what he had been expecting from his first week of high school, but it hadn’t been this.   
It hadn’t been classes that seemed remedial, in comparison to the classes he had had last year. It hadn’t been the same classmates he had had all through middle school and, in many cases, elementary school. It hadn’t been the same gossip, the same cliques, the same feelings of not belonging and not caring.  
He should have expected all of that to stay the same, in reality. Being a freshman at Granville High School wasn’t, in the end, all that different than being an eighth grader at Granville Elementary School. Not when the town of Granville itself had a population of barely ten thousand. Not when Heero had had the same classmates since he had first started school ten years ago.   
At least he had managed to get into better classes, had camped out in front of the principal’s office for three mornings in a row until she finally agreed to put him in Pre-Calculus and Advanced Physics. But there was no way to change the rest of it - no way to get around the fact that all of the students at Granville High School were the same peers that Heero had always preferred to avoid.  
Still, avoidance could only get him so far.  
His father had insisted that he participate in school more, that he start making a name for himself in sports so that he had an easier time getting into college.  
Heero knew that Odin, his father, wanted him to try out for the football team or at least the baseball team, but Heero couldn’t imagine joining a team sport like that.  
So he had settled on the cross-country team, since, if he made it, it meant spending almost every weekend of the fall semester travelling to track meets. He probably shouldn’t be picking a sport based on how much time away from home it guaranteed, probably shouldn’t already be preparing a mental schedule for how often he could use the excuse of going running to get out of the house, but then again, he probably shouldn’t have to.  
Yet he did, and he was.  
The cross-country team held try-outs during the first week of school, on Friday after classes, and as Heero changed into running shorts, a t-shirt and a pair of just barely broken in cross country spikes, he looked around the locker room.  
Disappointingly, he recognized almost everyone. A few of the faces he couldn’t put names with - students he recognized as seniors or juniors but had never really known. But all of the sophomores and the other freshmen were familiar to him. All except one. A boy with a long braid of brown hair and a cocky grin who winked at Heero when he saw him looking his way.  
Heero couldn’t decide if he hated him or liked him for that, for his cocky attitude and the swagger in his step as he walked out of the locker room.  
The coach, Treize Khushrenada, was also the Spanish teacher at the high school, and Heero imagined that he would take out his frustrations from classes on the team, would likely force them to run harder and faster just because he could, just because his days teaching Spanish to kids who could not care less about learning a second language had to be terrible.  
“Buenas tardes, Senior Khushrenada,” the braided boy greeted him.  
Treize arched an eyebrow at him.  
“Buenas tardes, Duo.”  
Duo grinned.  
“You remembered me!”  
“Of course I remembered you. You’re the only one in your class who bothered to do your homework,” Treize muttered.  
Duo shrugged.  
“Yeah, well, Father Maxwell’s kind of a hard ass about doing homework.”  
Oh.  
He was the kid Father Maxwell and his wife Helen had adopted over the summer.  
Odin had talked about it, had mentioned something about Helen being too soft-hearted and Father Maxwell having his hands full because the kid had already spent time in a juvenile detention center.  
Looking at him now, Heero had to wonder what Duo could have possibly done. He looked friendly and even innocent, with his wide blue eyes and sincere smile.  
Treize blew the whistle around his neck, drawing everyone’s attention to him.  
“Congratulations,” he said, looking over the line of nine runners. “You’ve made the cross-country track team.”  
Heero had to scowl.  
They didn’t even have to try?  
“Whew,” Duo wiped his brow in an exaggerated gesture of relief. “I was worried I wouldn’t make it!”  
Treize gave him a quelling look.  
“Even though we don’t turn anyone away from the team, I do rank you. So today is your one shot to impress me before our first meet in two weeks. Your normal courses will be five kilometers. Today you will each be running eight kilometers. I want to see what kind of endurance you have. Before we get started, go ahead and introduce yourselves - tell us your name and your year. We’re all going to be spending every weekend together for the next sixteen weeks, we might as well get familiar.”  
“Zechs Merquise, Junior,” the tall, blond haired boy at the end of the line stepped forward.  
“Otto Mitas, Junior,” said the boy next to him.  
“Alex Trant, Senior.”  
“Brandon Mueller, Junior.”  
“Duo Maxwell, Freshman.”  
“Wufei Chang, Freshman.”  
“Quatre Winner, Freshman.”  
“Heery Yuy, Freshman.”  
“Trowa Barton, Freshman.”  
There were a few murmurs from the upperclassmen when Trowa introduced himself, and Heero wasn’t surprised.  
Trowa himself just looked steadily ahead, completely ignoring everyone around him, just as he usually did.  
Only Duo Maxwell frowned and looked at the others, arched his eyebrow in question and glanced at Trowa as if he could somehow figure out why his name made everyone else react.  
But Duo was new. Duo hadn’t been a classmate of Trowa’s and he hadn’t lived in Granville long enough to know.  
He hadn’t been there last February, at that stupid Valentine’s dance at their middle school when Trowa and Michael Corner had danced together and kissed during one of the slow songs. He hadn’t been there to see or hear about Trowa and Michael getting beaten up afterwards. He hadn’t been there when Odin came home late one night and told Heero that Michael Corner had killed himself. He hadn’t been there to see Trowa’s face whenever he looked at the empty seat where Michael used to sit.  
“Right,” Treize gathered their attention again. “Follow the course flags. Run safe and run hard.” He paused, waited until he had everyone’s focus once again. “On my mark - Go!”  
For the first few kilometers all nine runners stayed even, but by the time they were on the last stretch, the runners had separated into three groups - Zechs, Otto and Wufei in the lead, Duo, Heero and Trowa behind them, and then Quatre, Mueller and Trant together bringing up the rear.  
“You famous or something?” Duo asked Trowa.  
Trowa glanced over at him.  
“Infamous,” he corrected, his voice barely loud enough for Heero to hear over his own heartbeat and labored breathing.  
“Infamous? Nice. Whaddya do? Break into -”  
“Leave him alone,” Heero interrupted Duo.  
It was bad enough that everyone in this town already looked down on Trowa, already had even before Michael, because his sister, Cathy, was a stripper. Trowa didn’t really need yet another person making fun of him.  
Trowa arched an eyebrow at him. They had never really spoken, not since elementary school when they had made a battery together out of a potato in a science class and even then their conversation had been limited to “pass the iodine.” Both Heero and Trowa had always been loners, always at the periphery. Well, Trowa hadn’t been after Michael moved to Granville during sixth grade. The two had instantly been inseperable, but it wasn’t until the dance that anyone realized they were gay, that they were more than just friends.”  
“It doesn’t matter,” Trowa said to Heero. “Someone else will tell him anyway.”  
“Tell me what?”  
“My sister is a stripper.”  
“Well, my newly adopted dear old dad is a freaking minister, so I think I’ve got you beat on the family occupations to be embarrassed about.”  
“My boyfriend killed himself last February.”  
“Oh.” Duo actually stumbled over the grass, lost a few paces, but then caught back up, all humor gone from his face. “My brother killed himself, when I was ten. ‘S’not the same, but… I feel you.”  
Trowa looked over at him again, and with Heero running between them he could see the hesitancy in Trowa’s eyes, could see how much he wanted to think Duo could possibly understand.  
“Anyway,” Duo said after a tense, heavy few minutes of running in silence, “whaddya say we give those guys a run for their money? I sure as hell don’t want to finish after some decrepit old senior. What about you guys?” Without waiting for an answer, Duo picked up his pace.  
Heero found himself instantly following, not entirely sure why, but then a moment later Trowa was there too, the three of them pushing ahead together.

 

-o-

Now

The battered truck was in the driveway, mud caked around the wheel wells and the assortment of stickers on the back slowly peeling away, losing the battle against time and the elements.  
Still, Heero paused as he approached the front door of the small house. He’d been here so often over the years, but not usually during the day, not usually feeling this out of sorts.  
He knocked cautiously and waited, ready to turn and walk away in a heartbeat, but the door opened.  
Trowa was only half dressed, in his olive khakis and a white a-tank undershirt, and he arched an eyebrow at the sight of Heero on his front porch.  
“Can I come in?”  
Trowa stepped aside and let Heero in.  
“You’re on your way out?”  
Trowa nodded and glanced at Heero, at his jeans and t-shirt.  
“You just got off duty?”  
Heero nodded and found himself at a momentary loss.  
Trowa sighed and glanced at his wristwatch.  
“I’ve got half an hour, if you want -”  
It was all the invitation Heero needed. He didn’t even let Trowa finish the sentence before kissing him, pressing his lips against Trowa’s open mouth with the same familiar desperation that Heero always felt when he came to Trowa.  
Trowa stumbled back a step but then wrapped his arms around Heero, held him tightly and kissed him back and that too was familiar, the sense of Trowa’s strong body and his warmth, the solid weight of him that was always there.  
Trowa walked them backwards, still kissing Heero, his hands tugging at Heero’s shirt and jeans, and by the time they made it to the bedroom they were both naked, their clothes a haphazard trail from the front door to the bed.  
Trowa pushed him back on the bed, straddled him and kissed his way down Heero’s body, nipping at his skin until Heero groaned and shoved his head lower, impatient with the way Trowa always teased him, always reminded Heero too much of the way someone else liked to tease.  
Trowa took the hint, as usual, and transferred his attention to Heero’s cock, sucking on him until he was fully erect and then he kissed Heero again, their tongues tangled together and fighting for control as Trowa reached for a condom and lube.  
Trowa prepared him quickly, efficiently, but it still felt good, still left Heero eager for more, and when Trowa slid inside, his cock filling Heero so completely it took his breath away, Heero felt some of the chaos of this thoughts start to recede, felt the world start to shift back into place.  
Trowa fucked him with the same intense, methodical manner he seemed to approach every task with, his cock thrusting into Heero’s body in deep, slow thrusts that left both of them panting and groaning, his green eyes were fixed on Heero’s face, his right hand stroking Heero’s cock in time with his thrusts.  
And this too was so familiar, so practiced between them, their bodies finely tuned to each other and Trowa knew when Heero was close, knew from his shuddering breath and his jerking thighs and Heero saw Trowa bit the inside of his lower lip, suck it in just the slightest bit, and then he felt Trowa come, felt him thrust deeply and erratically and then he closed his eyes and sighed.  
Trowa leaned down, brushed his lips over Heero’s one more time, and then he pulled out and rolled over, off the bed and walked into the bathroom to get rid of the condom.  
He came back with a damp towel and wiped at Heero’s cock and belly.  
“You don’t usually come over during the day.”  
Trowa’s voice was empty of emotion, and Heero wasn’t sure what Trowa hoped he would say.  
“No,” Heero agreed, the safest course of action.   
In fact, he never came over during the day. He only ever came over at night, only ever when they ran into each other at Full Moon, one of three bars in town and the one both Heero and Trowa went to a few nights a month, and sometimes their schedules overlapped, sometimes they saw each other across the dark, smoky interior and Heero walked home with Trowa, fucked him until he was sober enough to drive home.  
Trowa took back the towel and tossed it carelessly into his laundry hamper, still looking at Heero with his piercing eyes.  
“You’re going to be late,” Heero pointed out, glancing at the clock on Trowa’s nightstand.  
Trowa finally looked away from him and started to search for his clothes, pulling them back on with jerky, frustrated motions.  
Heero knew he was being an asshole, knew he was always an asshole to Trowa.  
“Father Maxwell died last night.”  
Trowa stopped dressing, his olive khakis halfway up his thighs, and turned to look at Heero.  
After a moment, Trowa pulled the pants the rest of the way up and fastened them.  
“Did you notify the next of kin?”  
Heero shook his head.  
“Wufei was on duty last night. I just heard about it this morning. Wufei called him.”  
Trowa didn’t ask, even though it was clear he wanted to, and Heero couldn’t blame him. He’d wanted to ask Wufei the same thing - how he sounded, what he said, if he was coming back - but he hadn’t been able to. And Trowa wasn’t able to now.  
“What about Death?”  
Heero frowned and then shrugged one shoulder.  
“It comes to us all?” He hazarded, not really sure where Trowa was going with that question.  
Trowa glared.  
“The dog, Heero. Where is Duo’s dog?”  
Shit.  
He’d forgotten all about Death, the dog Duo had rescued from that damn pet store at that track meet their junior year in high school. He’d left the dog behind, just like he had left Trowa and Heero behind, and Heero had never really given the dog much thought.  
“I don’t know.”  
“For fuck’s sake, Heero,” Trowa muttered, and Heero could count on one hand the number of times Trowa had ever sounded that upset.   
Trowa walked out of the bedroom and Heero followed him, watched Trowa find his cell phone and dial a number while he continued to dress.  
“Wufei? Yeah, it’s me. Where is Duo’s dog? Right. I’m going to get him. I don’t care - figure out whatever paperwork I need to fill out. Thanks.”  
Trowa hung up and glared at Heero once more.  
“You really expect me to be thinking of the damn dog right now?” Heero demanded, incredulous.  
Trowa closed his eyes and shook his head.  
“No. Of course not.” He sighed and reached for the tan shirt on a hook by the door and started to pull it on.  
Heero watched him, keenly aware of the fact that as Trowa finished buttoning up his uniform shirt, Heero was still completely naked.  
Trowa arched an eyebrow, looking him over.  
“Lock the door when you leave, will you?”  
Trowa reached for the wide brimmed brown hat that completed his Park Ranger uniform and Heero sighed.  
“What the hell do you want from me, Trowa?”  
Trowa’s hand stilled and clenched into a fist for a moment before completing the gesture, grabbing the hat and settling it on his head.  
“Nothing, Heero.”  
Trowa didn’t even glance over his shoulder, just walked out of the front door and closed it behind him and left Heero alone in the empty house.  
Angrily, Heero found his clothes and started to dress. He realized that Trowa had taken his undershirt, had likely grabbed it accidentally and as Heero pulled on Trowa’s undershirt he couldn’t help but smell Trowa’s cologne, the same damn cologne he had used since he was a senior in high school and it was ridiculous for Heero to pause, for him to inhale deeply and think back ten years ago, to think back to that Christmas when Duo had given each of them a bottle of expensive cologne, had blushed and said they reminded him of them. It was just as ridiculous, probably, that Heero also still used the same cologne, still ordered it from the store in New York where Duo had first bought it for him.  
Once he was dressed again Heero let himself out, locked the door behind him, and climbed into his Jeep and made the drive back to his own house.  
When he pulled up in the driveway he saw the other car already parked and he cut the ignition and sighed.  
It would have been nice to have the house to himself, but then again, Heero wasn’t really sure what he would have done - go into the attic and hunt through the old year books? Look for the shoebox of photos he had never been able to get rid of?  
After a few minutes he got out of the Jeep and let himself into the house.  
He sniffed the air. Pot roast. Usually his favorite.  
“Hey!”  
Relena greeted him a with a kiss.  
“I thought you were going to be home sooner - the pot roast almost burnt!”  
“Sorry.”  
Relena arched an eyebrow at him, at his lack of enthusiasm and the more than usually pathetic apology.  
“I went by Trowa’s house,” Heero told her.   
Relena arched an eyebrow.  
She knew he spent time with Trowa, knew he went over to sober up before coming home after a few drinks, knew they had been friends since high school and she might have known more, or at least suspected, but she never said.  
“Father Maxwell died last night.”  
“Oh.” Relena bit her lip. “Do you think Duo will come back for the funeral?”  
Heero shrugged. He honestly had no idea.  
And he had no idea if he even wanted Duo to come back.  
“He didn’t come back for Helen’s funeral,” Relena said, her tone brisk. “He probably won’t come back for this one either.” She reached out and ran her hand over Heero’s jaw. “You look exhausted.”  
“I don’t care for the early morning shifts at the police station,” Heero admitted.   
Relena laughed.  
“You’ve always been such a nightowl. But I like the early morning shifts for you - we never get to spend time together when you work nights.”  
“I know. I’m sorry.”  
“You don’t have to apologize. You always find a way to make it up to me.”  
It was his cue, and Heero leaned in to kiss her. It was, as always, so different than kissing Trowa.  
“Come on, let’s have dinner and I can tell you all about my exciting day trying to teach math to the demon spawn in third grade this year.”  
Heero smiled, nodded and followed her into the kitchen and he tried to listen, tried to put all thoughts of Trowa and Duo out of his head.  
But as usual, he failed.

-o-


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: So, I blame this entirely on Free! but also on the fact that Penumbra is just a pile of horribly depressing nonsense right now and I can’t fix it yet.   
A/N #2: So… this is kind of an experiment, I guess. It’s really two stories, told at the same time, ten years apart.  
A/N #3: Not a cross-country expert. Just researching what I can. If any of you ARE runners and want to share precious intel I’m happy to hear it!

Warnings: Angst, language, sex, angst  
Pairings: 1X2X3 and others

Before Now  
Chapter Two

Before

Maybe he should be embarrassed about the fact that his sister packed his lunches every day and left a note in his lunchbox for him, but it had never really bothered Trowa.  
On one hand, he was fully capable of making his own lunches, but on the other, Cathy knew him well enough to know that, if she didn’t take the time to make sure he ate, he was just as likely not to.  
Since he was used to eating alone - always had, until Michael Corner, and again after Michael Corner - Trowa had never worried about people making fun of Cathy’s notes, of her little doodles of dinosaurs fighting or her Star Wars quotes.  
But that had changed on Monday when he found his solitary lunch interrupted by Duo Maxwell, who unceremoniously sat down beside Trowa on the ground outside of the history building and grinned at him.  
“Great day for lunch, yeah?” Duo asked.  
Trowa just looked at him.  
He hadn’t been able to figure him out, after a week of cross-country practices. They didn’t have any classes together, and while Trowa had seen Duo in the halls, had seen him going into the caf for lunch every day last week, Duo seemed to more or less keep to himself until cross-country practice, where he seemed to have made it his personal mission to get Trowa and Heero to talk to him.  
But Trowa couldn’t decide yet whether Duo was just like everyone else, whether he was just messing with Trowa because he was bored or cruel, and he didn’t trust himself enough to start trusting Duo.  
Duo didn’t seem to mind Trowa’s lack of enthusiasm for his presence, he started to eat the sandwich he had purchased from the caf and looked around the quad, at the patches of students eating outside while the weather was still nice.  
“Weird place,” Duo said around a mouthful. “Everyone seems decent, but they also kind of seem like assholes. Is that just a me thing or is that the way things are?”  
Duo looked over at him when Trowa didn’t answer.  
Trowa sighed and shrugged. Maybe that was the way things were. He hadn’t had all that much experience with people being decent, but he’d had a fair number of experiences with them being assholes.  
“You and Heero seem okay. Actually - the other guys on the team seem cool, too.” Duo continued to talk, as though he didn’t actually need Trowa to contribute to the conversation, and maybe he didn’t.  
“Which reminds me, you ready for the meet this weekend? I’m pretty freaking excited about it, but kind of nervous too,” Duo smirked at him, “I mean, what if I trip and look like a complete moron again?”  
He’d done that, this past weekend at practice. Duo had tried to turn around and run backwards for a moment, so that he could keep talking at Heero and Trowa, and he’d tripped and fallen into a mud puddle and Heero had laughed and even Trowa had been startled into a soft chucle as Duo grimaced and wiped mud off of his face. But then Heero had helped him back to his feet, and they had started to run again, had almost made up the ground they had lost when Duo fell, before Trowa realized that he had stopped to wait for Duo and Heero, realized that he could have just kept running and let Duo sort himself out with Heero’s assistance.  
“Then don’t try to run backwards again,” Trowa said, speaking up and startling both of them.  
Duo scratched the back of his neck and blushed slightly.  
“Yeah. That was kind of stupid.” He sighed and leaned back on his elbows. “But at least I got you and Heero to laugh.”  
“I’m not sure making us laugh is worth risking a broken ankle,” Trowa had to point out.  
Duo smirked again.  
“I dunno. It was kind of nice seeing you laugh - you and Heero. The two of you never even smile, most of the time.”  
Trowa knew that was true, and while he had no idea why Heero didn’t find much pleasure and amusement in the world, he knew that for himself, at least, there wasn’t all that much he felt like smiling about.  
“Anyway - hey, what’s that?” Duo reached for the unfolded scrap of paper in Trowa’s open lunchbox, Cathy’s note from that morning.  
Duo grabbed it before Trowa could stop him, and Duo laughed, his eyes bright and his lips curved upwards. He looked over at Trowa.  
“Did you draw that?”  
Trowa shook his head.  
“My sister.”  
“It’s awesome.”  
It was a sketch of a tyrannosaurus rex trying to catch a beach ball, and it had been funny, had made Trowa smile a little when he had first seen it.  
Duo handed it back to him, still smiling.  
“She seems cool.”  
Trowa arched an eyebrow at that.  
“One dinosaur sketch and you think you know her?”  
Duo shrugged.  
“Nah. I mean - that just shows she’s got a dorky sense of humor, which is cool. But I saw her in the store a few days ago. Father Maxwell took me shopping for some church clothes,” Duo made a distasteful face, “and she was shopping, too. Came over and said hello to him and the Father got all red faced and stuttering - it was hilarious.”  
Trowa could imagine.  
Father Maxwell had very definite views on many things, and his views on Cathy’s line of work had been made very clear years ago, when Cathy had taken Trowa trick or treating for the last time and Father Maxwell had made a disdainful face when he opened the door to find them on his doorstep, muttered something about decency, responsibility and morality as he looked over Cathy’s witch costume and Cathy had dragged Trowa away without even waiting for candy.  
“Careful you don’t get too close to him.”  
Trowa and Duo looked up to see a handful of football players walking past, junior varsity players who seemed to think they were the newly minted gods of the high school, guys that Trowa had known for years and guys that he remembered, from that night, last year.  
Duo frowned.  
“Careful?”  
Tom Berls stepped up, sneered at Trowa.  
“You’re new, so maybe you don’t know about him - but he’s gay, and bad shit happens when you spend too much time with people like him.”  
Trowa was used to this, had dealt with it ever since Michael and he’d learned to stop listening, to just look past them and ignore all of it, and maybe it didn’t really work, maybe he still heard them, still thought about them and what had happened, but he’d be damned if he let them know what they said mattered to him.  
Duo, on the other hand, was clearly not used to it.  
“Bad shit?” He echoed. “Ohhhh. Oh - crap, do you mean I could catch the gay?” Duo turned to Trowa with wide eyes. “Tro - did you give me the gay? Did you get gay on me?” He stood up and looked over himself, held his arms and legs out and looked over himself with worry. “Oh, man - is there gay all over me? Ew, get it off, please!” Duo walked towards Tom, holding his hands up as if begging for his help, but Tom and the others stepped back.  
“Fucking weirdo,” Tom muttered.  
Duo dropped the act and glared at him.  
“I appreciate the warning,” he said, his voice surprisingly cold, “but I’d be careful if I were you, going around giving people warnings about who to hang out with. It makes you look like a moron.”  
Tom’s eyes narrowed and he stepped up to Duo.  
“Did you just call me a moron?”  
Duo rolled his eyes.  
“No. I said you look like a moron.”  
Tom frowned, tried to work through that, but the bell rang, signalling an end to lunch, and Tom let his friends pull him away.  
Duo glared after him for a minute before turning back and packing up his half-eaten lunch.  
“Don’t,” Trowa said.  
Duo frowned at him.  
“Don’t what?”  
“Don’t be an idiot and think I’m worth it.”  
Duo stared at him for a long, tense moment.  
“Jesus. What the hell is it with this town and morons?” He shook his head. “I’m not an idiot - and I’ve got the test scores to prove it. And I think you’re worth it, so just deal with it.”  
Duo held out his hand and Trowa stared up at him, but Duo didn’t move, didn’t look away, and Trowa reached out and let Duo pull him up to his feet.

-o-

Now

Death had a thing for socks.  
Or at least, for Trowa’s socks.  
The damn dog had gone through three pairs of them already in the last four days, had attacked Trowa’s laundry hamper when he had been gone each day and found them and proceeded to chew the toes out to his dark little heart’s content.  
The first day that Trowa had come home from the park and seen the black ball of fluff laying on his bed, wagging his tail, strings of cotton from Trowa’s socks all over his face and mouth, Trowa had been actually laughed.  
And of course Death had thought that was a good thing, had bounded off the bed, tripping a little over all of the thread, and jumped up against Trowa’s legs until he had picked him up.  
Still, on Thursday morning, Trowa was not in the mood to indulge Death, and he sternly told him to let go of his single pair of black dress socks and held open his jaw as he pulled them free from his mouth.  
As Trowa pulled them on he looked at himself in the bedroom mirror, at the black suit he had only ever worn two other times, at the gray tie and white dress shirt and he tugged at the tie, tried to loosen it just a little.  
He’d worn the suit for Helen’s funeral, three years ago, and again for Cathy’s wedding last year, and even though he had a tie as part of his Park Ranger uniform, he still couldn’t feel comfortable in the suit, or the tie, and he thought he looked ridiculous and he felt ridiculous.  
But it wasn’t as though he could show up to the funeral in his uniform, or in jeans and a sweater. Even he, with as little as he cared for the opinions of others, wasn’t going to do that.  
Especially not if there was the chance that Duo might be there.  
Trowa hadn’t spoken to Heero again since Sunday afternoon, when he’d come over and they’d fucked and Heero had told him the news about Father Maxwell’s death, and while Trowa had spoken to Wufei twice since then, the cop hadn’t known if Duo was going to come or not, hadn’t done more than shrug when Trowa had asked him.  
So, when Trowa showed up at the church, took a seat on one of the back pews by himself, he tried not to get his hopes up as he scanned the crowd, tried not to look for a brown braid.   
Despite the fact that the service was during the week, the church was full. Father Maxwell had retired after Helen had died, three years ago, but he had still been active in the community, still important to a lot of people, and Trowa wasn’t really surprised to see how many had turned out for his funeral.  
He spotted Heero and Relena near the front of the church, Heero looking immaculate in a charcoal gray suit that Trowa was positive Relena had bought for him. And Relena herself looked beautiful, as always, in a demure black dress and a single strand of pearls. She looked just as perfect as Heero, and Trowa fought down his anger and jealousy at that, at the knowledge that they were perfect together, and he only had those two or three nights with Heero every month, just a few hours to remember the ways things had been, to think about the way they could be.  
And that wasn’t perfect - it never had been, never could have been - but it was still more than Trowa had ever really hoped for.   
Trowa tried, for all of five minutes, to pay attention to the service. But every time anyone shifted in their seat he found himself looking up, wondering if it was Duo, and even though it never was, and even though Trowa knew he was being a complete moron for even thinking Duo’s appearance was a remote possibility, he found himself hoping.  
After the service Trowa joined the processional that walked over to the grave site, to the mound of earth and the open hole that would be the final resting place for Father Maxwell.  
The sky was overcast, the light just gray enough that it seemed fitting for a funeral, made everyone seem pale and drawn and Trowa had to wonder at that, had to wonder if anyone, really, was going to miss Father Maxwell.  
Probably Father Gibson would, the reverend who had taken over when Maxwell retired. Trowa knew they had lunch together almost every day, knew Gibson liked to run his sermons past Maxwell at those lunches and Trowa had always liked eating lunch at the cafe downtown on Saturdays, and it was unfortunate that he had to listen in on their conversations, unfortunate that they bothered to spare him troubled glances, but he was used to it by now.  
At least Saturdays would be easier, now, he reflected as they lowered the coffin into the grave. No need to pretend he didn’t understand the pointing references to Sodom and Gomorrah.   
It was only as the crowd started to disperse, as people drifted away to go about their days, that Trowa and Heero looked at each other, that their eyes met.  
Heero looked just as grim and tense as Trowa felt, and he wondered if he had been fighting against the same irrational hope to see Duo again that Trowa had been. Although, knowing Heero, he would be just as likely to punch Duo in the face as be happy to see him again.   
Relena was talking to Father Gibson, so Trowa approached Heero, slowly, meeting him halfway in case Heero didn’t actually want to talk to him in public.  
But Heero joined him, bumped their shoulders together and the gesture tugged at Trowa’s heart.  
It was their standard, ‘I’m sorry, but I’m not going to say it’ gesture. The one that Duo had always made fun of them for, had never really appreciated. But Trowa did.  
“How’s Death?” Heero asked.  
Trowa snorted.  
“He’s a fucking menace. I have no idea why Father Maxwell kept him around after Duo left.”  
“I think Helen liked him,” Heero mused. “And after she died I think Maxwell just… forgot it was Duo’s dog in the first place.”  
Trowa nodded. He had suspected the same thing. He had even seen Helen walking Death, over the years, knew she had cared for the dog, had cared for Duo.  
“Hilde didn’t come to the funeral.”  
Trowa frowned. He hadn’t even thought to look for her, which was stupid, in retrospect. If anyone knew whether or not Duo would be here it was her - the only person who had even kept in touch with Duo after he left Granville.  
“She did hate him,” Trowa pointed out.  
Heero nodded and then sighed when Relena looked over at them.  
“I should go.”  
Trowa looked over at him, saw the hesitation and he wondered what Heero would do, what he would say, if Trowa just asked him to stay, or better yet, to come home with him.  
Heero looked past him, over Trowa’s shoulder, and his expression shifted, the hesitancy gone as his eyes widened and his lips parted slightly in surprise.  
Trowa turned, followed his gaze.  
A tall, lanky man in a black suit was walking towards them, his hands shoved in his pockets and his face downcast, but even without seeing his face Trowa could recognize him. Could see the long braid of brown hair trailing down his back and swinging slightly with each step he took.  
Trowa felt his breath catch, felt his heart skip a beat, when the man looked up, when his blue eyes met Trowa’s gaze.  
Ten years had changed Duo, had added height and weight and his jaw was more defined, his full cheeks not quite so full anymore. But in so many ways he looked the same, his wide mouth, his eyes, his nose that Trowa had once made the mistake of labelling as cute.   
Beside Trowa, Heero tensed, his hands fisting by his sides, and Trowa had to fight against the instinct to touch him, to put a hand on his arm or his shoulder or his back.  
“You’re late,” Heero spoke up, his voice cold and entirely unforgiving.  
Duo nodded slowly.  
“Yeah. I know.”

-o-


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: So, I blame this entirely on Free! but also on the fact that Penumbra is just a pile of horribly depressing nonsense right now and I can’t fix it yet.   
A/N #2: So… this is kind of an experiment, I guess. It’s really two stories, told at the same time, 14-10 years apart.  
A/N #3: Not a cross-country expert. Just researching what I can. If any of you ARE runners and want to share precious intel I’m happy to hear it!

Warnings: Angst, language, sex, angst  
Pairings: 1X2X3 and others

Before Now  
Chapter Three

Before

“You guys going to Relena’s Halloween party next week?”  
It was ten-thirty at night and the cross country team had just returned from a meet.  
While most of the team had already gone home, Trowa, Heero and Duo were still at the school, sitting on the curb by the gym waiting for their rides. Khushrenada waited with them, sitting in his car reading, clearly in need of quiet time after a day spent with high schoolers.  
Duo wondered about him, wondered why the hell he taught high school Spanish when he clearly spent his spare time fantasizing gruesome deaths for his students.  
Trowa shook his head in the negative, which didn’t surprise Duo. Over the past few weeks, he’d gotten to know Trowa fairly well, and had certainly had more than ample opportunity to hear the town gossip about Trowa and his sister. He didn’t blame Trowa for passing on the party, all things considered.  
“I have to,” Heero growled and Duo had to smirk.  
He’d gotten to know Heero too, and while cranky seemed to be Heero’s standard mood most of the time, any mention of Relena was guaranteed to turn up his irritation a few notches.  
“Your Dad making you go?”  
Heero nodded.  
Duo didn’t envy Heero in the least, didn’t envy the fact that he had a step-father or the fact that he was the chief of police - Duo had found it enough of a challenge to watch his mouth around Father Maxwell and Helen. Town gossip had it that Odin Lowe was a hard man and especially hard on Heero, especially after Heero’s mother had died three years ago.  
Trowa arched an eyebrow at Duo, silently asking if he was going to attend.  
Duo shrugged.  
“Dunno if I’m going to go. Helen thinks I should.”  
Helen, it had become clear on day one with the Maxwells, had a soft heart and was determined to make Duo feel like as much of a normal teenager and a part of their family as possible. Which included hints about attending the Halloween party thrown by the most popular girl in the school.  
Duo grinned at Heero.  
“Whatcha gonna dress up as?”  
“A cross country runner,” Heero muttered and Trowa snorted in amusement.  
Heero’s lips twitched upwards slightly at the sound, and Duo found himself smiling as well. It always felt like a victory if Trowa laughed - or even snorted in amusement.  
“I’m probably going to go as Princess Leia,” Duo said.  
It was Heero who laughed now, a deep chuckle that Duo also considered a victory.  
Trowa, however, looked at him seriously.  
“Don’t. No one will appreciate it. They’ll punish you for it.”  
Duo and Heero’s humor evaporated.  
“I won’t,” Duo sat up and he felt like an asshole, could see that Trowa was thinking horribly dark thoughts and maybe he should have thought about that before going for the joke. Should have realized the joke was not that good in the first place.  
A black sedan pulled up and Heero sighed and stood.  
“See you on Monday, buddy,” Duo said.  
Heero nodded, hesitated for a moment, and then turned back to look at them.  
“It was good running with you today.”  
It was kind of a weird thing to say, Duo thought, especially considering that the three of them had only placed in the middle of the pack - fifteenth, sixteenth and seventeenth, but it hadn’t been their worst finish, though not their best. The weekend before the three of them had actually placed higher than the upperclassmen, coming in tenth, eleventh and twelfth. Still.  
“It was good running with you, too,” Duo said.  
Heero smiled slightly, nodded, and then shouldered his bag and walked over to his father’s car.  
“You guys and your social skills…” Duo muttered. “Couldn’t the guy have just said it’s nice having you two as friends?”  
“He did say that - he just used different words.”  
Duo looked over at Trowa and then leaned in to nudge his shoulder.  
“And you just say it without words, huh?”  
Trowa gave him a look.  
“I don’t really want friends,” he muttered.  
“Yeah, well, I don’t really want an A in geometry, either. I fucking need it, so I’ve learned to just accept it.”  
Trowa shook his head.  
“I don’t need -”  
“Hey. Tro.”  
Duo waited until Trowa was looking at him before speaking again.  
“I’ve been through a lot of shit in my life. Dealing with the kids here is just more of the same.” Duo shrugged and swallowed hard. “Plus I’ve never really had friends.”  
It had been a bit difficult, considering how frequently he was moved between group homes and foster families and of course, his six month vacation at Tryon Residential Center in upstate New York last year, where he had first met Father Maxwell.  
Trowa frowned.  
“But why me?”  
“I dunno. You’re a puzzle, and I’ve always liked puzzles.”  
Trowa snorted and looked away, glared out at the parking lot.  
“So you’re going to figure me out and then get bored.”  
“No way. Dude, I’ve had the same Rubix cube since I was six. I don’t get bored of puzzles.”  
“How many times have you solved the Rubik’s cube?”  
“Once - but I think I’ve almost got it worked out again.”  
Trowa smiled, just slightly, but Duo once again counted it as a victory.  
“When are your rides getting here?”  
Khushrenada had stepped out of his car and had his arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face.  
“Think he’s asking so he can decide if he has enough time to murder us and hide our bodies?” Duo asked Trowa under his breath.  
“Your sense of humor is broken,” Trowa muttered back.  
“Tell me about it.”  
“Boys.”  
“Uh, I was just going to walk home,” Duo spoke up. The Maxwell’s only lived two miles away from the school, and he hadn’t wanted either of them to have to stay up and get him. Not when they both got up so early on Sundays for church.  
“Me too. My sister is working tonight.”  
Khushrenada rolled his eyes and gestured to his car.  
“Get in.”  
“Well, it was nice knowing you, Tro,” Duo said and stood up. He reached down and offered Trowa a hand up. “Will ya hold my hand as he kills us?”  
“Seriously broken,” Trowa said again but accepted the hand up.  
Unfortunately for Duo’s curiosity, Khushrenada dropped Duo off first, so he didn’t get to see where Trowa lived, or how close they might be to each other.   
He let himself into the Maxwell house and dropped his gear in the laundry room as Helen had requested and then swung by the kitchen on his way upstairs.   
Duo hadn’t been able to sleep, his first night in the house, and he’d snuck downstairs to just sit in the kitchen for a while and Father Maxwell had found him there, had made them both grilled cheese sandwiches and hadn’t forced Duo to talk, had just sat with him while he ate and then patted his shoulder and suggested he try to sleep when they were finished.  
He still had trouble sleeping some nights, still found it hard to believe, surreal and just wrong sometimes, that he had been adopted by these people. That he had a room of his own. Slept on sheets that didn’t smell like piss. Had clothes that had been bought for him and not just assigned to him after having been worn by countless others.  
And of course, after Helen had told him he was welcome to any food in the house so long as he didn’t eat too much sugar, Duo had decided that on those nights he couldn’t sleep well, there was nothing wrong with a late night snack.  
He’d been able to sleep for hours on the bus that day, first going to the meet and then on the way back, and wasn’t at all tired despite the fact that it was almost midnight.  
Duo made himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, poured a glass of milk, and sat down at the table to eat.  
“I was starting to worry about you.”  
Duo almost spilled his milk, he was so startled by the appearance of Father Maxwell.  
“Shit. I’m sorry - oh. Crap. I’m sorry again,” he apologized when he realized what he had said.  
Father Maxwell sighed, half in exasperation, half in amusement, and waved aside Duo’s apologies. The swearing was a constant struggle for Duo, but he was trying. Not succeeding all that well, but trying all the same.  
“I didn’t mean to wake you up,” he tried again.  
“You didn’t. I’ve been waiting up for you.”  
Duo frowned.  
“But it’s almost midnight - you get up at like six in the morning.”  
“Yes, but I wanted to make sure you got home safely.”  
Yet another thing Duo wasn’t really used to.   
“Sorry. I was going to walk home but I waited around with Heero and Trowa for a while and then the coach drove me home. Me and Trowa.”  
Father Maxwell nodded.  
“How did you do today?”  
“Okay. I came in sixteenth. Heero came in fifteenth and Trowa came in sixteenth.”  
“You boys always seem to place together.”  
Father Maxwell sat down at the table with Duo and he offered up half of his sandwich. Father Maxwell accepted it.  
“Yeah. It’s cool having those two to run with. I think Heero and I really push each other, yanno? And Trowa - I mean, it’s so obvious he could beat either of us but he just keeps pace with us.” It was another part of the puzzle, to Duo.   
Father Maxwell frowned slightly.  
“Trowa has had a… very troubled life, Duo.”  
“I’m not sure what that has to do with his running.”  
“I simply want to make sure that you are aware that he is…”  
“Gay?”  
Father Maxwell sighed.  
“He is only a child. He is clearly confused and is struggling to find himself. If he has you and Heero as friends I think that should help him, should allow him to have positive influences in his life.”  
Duo tried to wrap his head around the concept of himself as a positive influence. Heero, sure. But Duo?  
Then again, considering the fact that Father Maxwell said prayers for Cathy every time he saw her, maybe Duo was positive in comparison - at least in Father Maxwell’s mind.  
“Try not to stay up too late. Remember that you are serving as an acolyte tomorrow morning.”  
Duo just barely restrained his groan.  
He’d known, when Father Maxwell asked to adopt him, that he would have to be involved with the church in some capacity. But he’d kind of thought that maybe he could just do charity work or something, but instead, every Sunday morning he was either sitting with Helen on one of the front pews, or serving as an acolyte.  
The weird thing, of course, was that aside from the fact that he didn’t get to sleep in, he actually kind of enjoyed it. Enjoyed getting to wear the cassock and light candles and maybe he didn’t agree all that much with the Bible, but Father Maxwell had a great voice and always seemed to give interesting sermons.  
“Helen wants to take you shopping for your Halloween costume tomorrow afternoon, if you have your homework finished,” Father Maxwell continued.  
Duo nodded.  
“Yeah, I just don’t know what I want to dress up as. I’ve never… I mean, I’ve never had a real Halloween costume before.”  
Once, when he was eight, he’d done the whole trick or treating thing with Solo, and they’d dressed up in black shirts and rubbed ketchup all over their mouths and noses and ripped up their shirts. Zombies, Solo had said they were zombies.  
“I mean, I could always go as Jesus, I guess…”  
Father Maxwell rolled his eyes.  
The warden at Tryon had suggested Father Maxwell force Duo to get his hair cut, and Father Maxwell had rocked back on his heels and actually glared at the warden, had calmly told him that if Jesus could have long hair, there was absolutely no reason that Duo couldn’t. Duo had just stared at him, open mouthed, unable to believe that this guy was for real.  
“I suppose he was the original zombie,” Father Maxwell mused, a smirk on his face, “but I trust you can come up with something a little more appropriate.”  
“I guess…” Duo sighed theatrically. 

Now

Duo hadn’t wanted to come back. Had promised himself, ten years ago, that he would never set foot in Granville again, would never speak to Father Maxwell or have to look at any of the hypocrites in this town or re-live any of his teenage years ever again.  
And yet. Here he was. Parking his rental car in the church parking lot, in the same spot where he and Trowa had made out and traded hand jobs in the back seat of his truck years ago, the one time Trowa had come to a church service, the Christmas of their senior year in high school.  
Duo sighed, pulled himself together, and got out of the car.  
He wouldn’t have come, wouldn’t be in this hell hole at all, if it wasn’t for Wufei and Quatre, the meddling pricks.  
First Wufei, calling him to say that Father Maxwell had died and then having the balls to tell him it was okay when Duo started to cry. And he still didn’t want to dwell on that, didn’t want to think about the fact that he had only cried five times in his life and one of those was for the death of a man who had turned his back on Duo.   
And then Quatre, the polished, successful lawyer who had just returned to Granville to join his family’s practice after clerking for the Supreme Court for two years. Quatre, calling him about the fucking will and telling him he had to be there, had to come to Granville and it was just for one day - a few at most to sort things out, and that there were so many people who would want to see him again and he owed Father Maxwell this.  
And maybe Duo did owe Father Maxwell this, but he sure as hell didn’t have to like it, didn’t have to like all the memories this place brought back, didn’t have to like the fact that he found himself looking over his shoulder as he walked towards the cemetery, hoping not to see anyone he recognized as everyone got back into their cars and left.  
Of course Wufei had called again, only yesterday, as Duo was still debating whether or not to come back, after he’d spent an hour on the phone with Hilde who had listened to him bitch and concluded the conversation by saying he should do whatever he would regret the least. So that had still been in his mind, the words fresh and painful because Duo had a lot of fucking regrets, when Wufei had called and told him that Trowa was taking care of Death for now, that when Duo got to Granville he should stop by Trowa’s house to get the dog.  
When.  
Because Wufei had probably sat there beside Hilde while she talked to Duo, had probably been doing the fucking crossword or something while his girlfriend talked to her best friend and then he had pounced, had known, probably, that the mention of Trowa and Death would seal Duo’s fate.  
And of course, as he approached the fresh grave, Duo looked up to see two of his biggest regrets standing there, grim expressions on their faces.   
He hadn’t been surprised when Heero’s expression had shifted to hostility. He knew him well enough, or at least, he had known him well enough, to know that Heero usually reacted with anger first before he allowed himself to really think through his emotions.  
He had been surprised, just a little, when Trowa shifted closer to Heero, when his body language made it clear that he was on Heero’s side, was standing beside him and was with him in his anger.  
Years ago, sure, he had been ganged up on by the two of them often enough. But now?   
Hilde had told him they rarely spoke to each other. They had a few beers with each other a few times a month but that was it - they barely even acknowledged each other in public and Heero had been living with Relena for the last three years.   
So he hadn’t thought they were still a team. Hadn’t realized - then again, maybe Duo’s presence was just the incentive they needed to get together?  
He had to smirk at that thought.  
Wouldn’t that just be perfect, all things considered. Father Maxwell’s death and Duo’s return bringing Heero and Trowa together. Absolutely perfect.  
“You’re late.”  
Heero’s voice was like ice, like when Duo had told him he had been accepted to NYU and was going to go, wasn’t going to join Heero at State.  
“I know.”  
They weren’t talking about the funeral.  
“Oh, Duo. I didn’t know you were coming!”  
Relena interrupted the moment, stepped in Duo’s line of vision and ended the glaring contest between Heero and Duo.  
Duo offered her a smile.   
“Yeah. I didn’t either until this morning.” He looked past her shoulder, over to where Wufei was talking to the reverend - Gibson? Duo thought that was him. Hilde had described him pretty well.  
Relena hugged him and Duo awkwardly patted her back.  
He’d never really known what to think of her. And now… now that she and Heero lived together he really didn’t know what he thought of her. He knew she had always liked Heero, had always thrown herself at him because he was the one guy who seemed more or less indifferent to her. He didn’t know how much Relena knew about him or Heero or Trowa, or what they had had together. Or what Heero might have told her.  
“I’m so sorry you missed the service. Father Gibson did a wonderful job. He and Father Maxwell were very close - he wasn’t alone, even after Helen died.”  
Duo swallowed hard at that, at the reminder that Helen was dead and the fact that he hadn’t been here then, hadn’t wanted to come back to all of this, even to say goodbye to her. And he did regret that, all the damn time and damn Hilde for using that against him, for manipulating him into this.  
Duo nodded.  
“Good. That’s good.”  
“We should go.”  
Heero was suddenly there, hand on Relena’s elbow, gaze still cold.  
“Yes. Duo, how long are you in town for?”  
Duo shrugged and shoved his hands deeper into his pockets.  
Helen had tried to break him of that habit, had tried to get him to stand up straight and be proud and tall and whatever.  
“Dunno. Have a few things to take care of. Hopefully not long.”  
Relena nodded and rested her hand on his arm for a moment before stepping back.  
“Well, if you are able to come over for dinner one night, I know Heero and I would like that.”  
He had to stare at her, and Heero did the same.  
Was she out of her mind?  
But Relena just gave him a subdued, serene smile and walked away, Heero following a moment later.  
Duo saw that Trowa had also left, which meant Duo was alone with Wufei and Father Gibson and he had thought seeing Heero and Trowa again was going to be the worst part of this whole thing and he was so very, very wrong.  
“I’m very sorry for your loss, Duo. Father Maxwell spoke of you often and he was so very proud of you.”  
Father Gibson spoke the words so damned sincerely and Duo stared at him in shock.  
“What?”  
“We used to meet several days a week. He humored me by looking over my sermons and he always spoke of you. Always showed off your books and saved all of the reviews and articles about you. He loved you very much, Duo. It was good of you to come and say goodbye.”  
And then Duo was crying again. For the sixth damn time in his life and Wufei held him and Father Gibson rubbed soothing circles on his back.  
Duo hadn’t wanted to come back, because he hadn’t wanted to re-live all of the terrible things that had happened to him here in Granville. He had never thought that he’d be forced to re-live the good things, never thought that he’d be forced to remember that, whatever else had happened, Father Maxwell had loved him.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: So, I blame this entirely on Free! but also on the fact that Penumbra is just a pile of horribly depressing nonsense right now and I can’t fix it yet.   
A/N #2: So… this is kind of an experiment, I guess. It’s really two stories, told at the same time, 14-10 years apart.  
A/N #3: Not a cross-country expert. Just researching what I can. If any of you ARE runners and want to share precious intel I’m happy to hear it!

Warnings: Angst, language, sex, angst  
Pairings: 1X2X3 and others

Before Now  
Chapter Four

Before

“You know, we should probably run in the off season, if we want to do better next year.”  
Heero had started to eat lunch with Duo and Trowa, and even though it was the middle of November and cold enough that they were all in jackets and Duo’s nose was red from the cold, they sat outside, under the tree that seemed to be their usual spot.  
“Probably,” Trowa agreed with Duo.  
Duo turned to Heero and arched an eyebrow.  
Heero shrugged.  
It would be another excuse to get out of the house, a reason to stay away, and he wasn’t about to turn down that opportunity. But he didn’t want to seem pathetically eager, either.  
“We can just do our same practice everyday?” Duo suggested. “Run five k here on campus?”  
“I read that weight training helps,” Heero had to add.  
Duo tapped his lips thoughtfully.  
“There’s some free weights and things at the church community center. Maybe we could go there a few days a week and run the other days?”  
“We could go to the park on Saturdays,” Trowa suggested, his voice quiet.  
“Huh?” Duo frowned. “Like out at the mountain? That’s like twenty miles away. It’d be a forty mile run just to get there.”  
Trowa gave him a look.  
“There’s a bus. We can take it out in the mornings and then back in the afternoon. It would be good to practice on more intense terrain.”  
And it would mean more time away from home.  
Heero nodded in agreement.  
Duo grinned.  
“Awesome - but can we maybe sleep in a little? It would not hurt my feelings at all if I didn’t have to wake up at five in the morning on Saturdays anymore.”  
Trowa shook his head.  
“Lazy.”  
“I am not lazy. I just happen to have a very intimate relationship with my pillow.”  
Heero had to smile at Duo, at the way Trowa teased him. He saw the way Trowa looked at Duo, saw the way he smiled at him sometimes when Duo wasn’t looking, saw the way his eyes followed him, and he wondered.  
The lunch bell rang and they went their separate ways, agreeing to start running tomorrow, and while Heero wished they could just start today, none of them had their gear.  
So he spent his afternoon trying to focus on his classes, trying to feign interest in the lectures when he had already completed all of his homework for the week and read two chapters ahead in all of his classes.   
He was, most unfortunately, partnered with Relena in Biology and had to endure her flirtation for the full ninety minutes. He had only barely avoided her at her party two weeks ago, had avoided her and the pointed stares from her step-brother Zechs, the knowing looks from Relena’s friends. Only Duo’s presence at the party had saved Heero, and he would forever be grateful to the long haired boy for extricating him time and time again from Relena’s company, making excuses for Heero to avoid every stupid party game and attempt to get Heero and Relena alone together and somehow Heero had actually enjoyed himself, had actually enjoyed Duo’s company and the crazy antics he had pulled to ensure Heero’s freedom.  
But Duo wasn’t in his Biology class, and neither was Trowa. So he had no backup, had to endure Relena on his own and had to complete the frog dissection entirely on his own because Relena was green-faced and refused to even look at the frog much less participate.  
Which was fine with Heero, except that Relena kept grabbing at his shoulder when she heard a particular disturbing sound or exclamation from their classmates.  
By the end of the day Heero was in a foul mood and as he rode the bus home he contemplated just getting his running gear and taking off, just spending the rest of the afternoon running and trying to forget about how utterly miserable he was in most of his classes.  
But Odin was home that afternoon, and while Heero might be ahead on his schoolwork, there were always household chores to do, always reasons for Odin to scowl at him and Heero knew he wouldn’t be able to escape for a run so easily today.  
As soon as he walked in the door he knew something was wrong.  
Spot didn’t greet him.  
Spot, the dalmatian that Heero had stupidly named spot when he was eight because it had seemed like the ideal name for the dog, had even seemed clever to his eight year old self.  
“Spot?” He called out hesitantly and walked through the house, walked through each of the rooms, even risked opening Odin’s door to peak in but it was empty, just like all of the other rooms.  
Frowning and anxious, Heero went outside and approached Odin’s greenhouse.  
It was his step-father’s sanctuary, and Heero almost never went inside. His mother used to grow herbs in there, used to spend hours in there and when he was young Heero had worked in the greenhouse with her, but after she died Odin took over tending to her plants and Heero was no longer welcome.  
Hesitantly, he knocked on the door to the greenhouse.  
“Come,” Odin called, his voice deep and brusque.  
“I can’t find Spot,” Heero said as soon as he opened the door. Odin didn’t care much for small talk.  
Odin snorted and didn’t even bother to look up from the plant he was examining.  
“Gone.”  
“What?”  
“Damn dog ate another pair of my shoes. I told you last time it happened I wouldn’t stand for it anymore.”  
Heero stared at Odin in disbelief, and Odin looked up to see his expression. Odin sneered.  
“I warned you, Heero. I told you to keep that dog under control.”  
“But -”  
“Do not back talk me, Heero,” Odin snapped. “How much money have I wasted on that damn animal? All the vet bills, all the shoes and socks and furniture she chewed up.” Odin shook his head. “You’re too old for a pet in any case. It’s time for you to grow up.”  
Heero swallowed hard, swallowed down his urge to shout, to cry, and instead he inclined his head.  
“Go do your chores and your homework,” Odin suggested.   
Heero nodded rapidly and then turned on his heel and walked back into the house. He swept and vacuumed and took out the trash and then he sat down at the desk in his room and stared at his computer, stared at his stack of books and he couldn’t bring himself to do anything, couldn’t think of anything except Spot.  
He rose from the chair and flung himself on the bed, buried his face in the pillows and he heard a dull, sad squeak.  
He dug Spot’s favorite toy out from behind the pillow. The ratty, faded squeaky dog toy that she had loved so much.   
And as he held it in his hand and squeaked it, knowing she wasn’t going to come, Heero started to cry.

-o-

Now

Heero had finished off his fourth beer when he realized.  
It was Friday night.   
Trowa never came to Full Moon on Friday nights. He almost always worked Saturday mornings and he didn’t like to stay up late, didn’t like to drink too much the night before an early morning and Heero should have remembered that.  
He would have, had it not been the Friday that Duo Maxwell showed up in Granville after a ten year absence and had the gall to look even more beautiful than Heero remembered, had the gall to look hurt by Heero’s anger.  
The years had sure as hell been kind to Duo, he had grown up and damn it all but he was still irresistible.  
Heero paid for his last round and decided to just go, maybe he could walk over to Trowa’s house and see if he was still awake, see if he was in the mood - because Heero needed something to ground him, needed Trowa’s body to steady him and help him forget Duo.  
Except maybe that wouldn’t work this time. Because even as Heero thought about Trowa fucking him, he thought about Duo, thought about the last time they had all been together, that weekend camping trip by the lake and sharing that damned small tent and piling their sleeping bags together and not even hiking, not even doing much of anything aside from fucking each other as many different ways as they possibly could.  
On his way out of the bar, Heero saw Wufei sitting alone, and the dark eyed man caught his gaze, nodded and gestured for Heero to come his way.  
Heero sighed.  
Wufei was okay. Some of the times they got along perfectly well, others they went weeks without speaking to each other, and while they were currently on good terms, Heero couldn’t help but think that whatever Wufei wanted to say to him would surely put an end to that.  
“Where’s Hilde?”  
Wufei and Hilde usually came here on Friday nights, usually had a few beers and listened to the crappy local cover band that played crappy live music for a few hours.  
Wufei snorted.  
“Where do you think? With Duo. They’re probably off getting drunk or high or defacing public property somewhere.”  
Heero had to arch an eyebrow at Wufei’s tone, at his nonchalant attitude.  
“Getting high?”  
Wufei shrugged one shoulder.  
“Probably not that one. Hilde’s pregnant.”  
Heero frowned. He hadn’t known.  
“Congratulations.”  
Wufei nodded.  
“Thank you.”  
Heero remembered the last time Hilde had been pregnant, just after Heero and Wufei finished at the Academy and moved back to Granville and Wufei had proposed, had wanted to do the right thing and Hilde had told him to fuck off. And now, five years later, they still weren’t married and were expecting their second child. He didn’t understand them at all.  
Heero hesitated. He sure as hell didn’t want to ask Wufei about Duo, but he wanted to know. Hell. He needed to know.  
“How long is he in town?”  
Wufei shrugged one shoulder.  
“Don’t know. He met with Quatre today about the will and seemed pretty pissed about it.”  
Heero arched an eyebrow at that. He wondered what Duo could have possibly expected from Father Maxwell after turning his back on the man and his wife ten years ago.  
Wufei was looking at him strangely.  
“What?”  
“You, Trowa and Duo were so close in high school. I’ve never understood what happened.”  
Neither did Heero, if truth be told. One day they were planning to spend the summer hiking the Appalachian Trail, planning Fall Breaks and Winter Breaks and weekend visits and then next Duo was telling them he was leaving for New York, had enrolled in summer courses at NYU and telling Heero and Trowa they should grow up, start thinking about their futures and stop thinking they could make stupid dreams come true. And then he had left, had stopped answering Heero’s calls, had never come back to Granville, had completely forgotten about Heero and Trowa.  
“We grew up,” Heero muttered and he contemplated another beer.  
Wufei arched an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with the answer.  
“I always thought…” Wufei trailed off, shrugged and took another sip of his beer.  
Heero rolled his eyes. Wufei was so damn obvious.  
“Thought what?” He demanded, taking the bait.  
“I just thought Trowa and Duo and you - you three seemed inseparable. The three of you versus the world.”  
Yes. Things had been like that. But that had been before.  
“Like I said. We grew up.”  
Heero walked away, not even bothering with a proper goodbye, and he walked out of the bar and into the light chill of the night air. It was still early autumn, before the leaves really started to change, before the air had any real bite, and Heero walked briskly down the quiet streets to Trowa’s house, the mile all too short by the the time he found himself on the front porch.  
He hesitated and realized it was late, realized Trowa was probably already asleep, but what the hell. He was here now.  
Heero knocked and instantly there was the sound of a dog barking and the scramble of feet across the floor.  
Heero winced. Well, Trowa was definitely up now.  
A moment later the front door opened and a sleep tousled Trowa glared at him.  
“Can I come in?” Heero asked.  
Trowa sighed, scooped up Death and let Heero in.  
The dog whimpered in Trowa’s arms, wriggling and wagging his tail.  
Trowa closed the door and set the dog down and it immediately jumped on Heero, whimpered until Heero leaned down and picked it up.  
He stared into Death’s single eye and wondered if the dog remembered him. He absently rubbed his head and belly a few times and then put him back on the floor.  
Trowa, meanwhile, stared at him with an expression that was just barely neutral.  
“Sorry it’s late,” Heero said.  
Trowa sighed and shrugged one shoulder.  
“I couldn’t sleep anyway.”  
Heero nodded.  
“Duo?”  
Trowa scowled but after a moment he nodded.  
Heero sighed. He didn’t really know what to say. He sure as hell didn’t want to talk about Duo, but then again… who else could he talk to about Duo?  
“Wufei doesn’t know how long he’s in town for,” Heero said, thinking it only fair to share the information with Trowa.  
Trowa frowned.  
“I don’t understand why he’s here at all. He didn’t come back for Helen’s funeral.”  
“Wufei said something about the will?” Heero shrugged. “I don’t know.”  
Trowa frowned slightly.  
“Did you ever talk to him? After he left?”  
Trowa had never asked him that before. In fact, they had never even mentioned Duo’s name to each other before this past week. Not since Duo had left them.  
“No. I called him once - called his dorm but he wasn’t in and his roommate was a prick.”  
Trowa’s lips twitched and Heero rolled his eyes at Trowa’s amusement, at Trowa’s obvious thought that of course Heero hadn’t bothered to leave a message or try calling again.  
“You?”  
Trowa shrugged one shoulder again.  
“I went to New York once, when I was twenty.”  
Heero hadn’t known that, but then again, Trowa hadn’t moved back to Granville until he was twenty five and had already finished his master’s degree.   
“You saw him?”  
Trowa nodded.  
“He was… he had moved on. There was no point in trying to talk to him.”  
Heero could only imagine what had been going through Trowa’s mind, could only imagine why he had bothered to go after Duo in the first place and then to realize Duo had just forgotten about them completely…  
“I’m not in the mood for sex tonight, Heero,” Trowa sighed.  
“Neither am I,” Heero admitted. “I don’t want to think about Duo.”  
Trowa nodded.  
“Then why did you come?”  
It was Heero’s turn to shrug.  
“Nowhere else I wanted to go.”  
Trowa’s gaze was intense and it felt like he was searching for something as he looked into Heero’s eyes.  
“You want to sleep here?”  
Heero had never stayed over. Trowa had never asked him to.  
He hesitated and Trowa shrugged.  
“Forget -”  
“No,” Heero interrupted him. “I’d like to.”  
He pulled out his phone and texted Relena, told her he was crashing on Trowa’s couch after too many beers and would come by the house in the morning before his shift.  
He followed Trowa into the bedroom and stripped out of his clothes, Trowa’s eyes on him the entire time.  
Death jumped up on the bed and made a great show of curling up on the pillows beside Trowa, making it clear that he thought Heero should sleep elsewhere.  
Heero snorted and picked him up, unceremoniously dropped him off at Trowa’s feet and climbed into the bed.  
Trowa turned off the light and Heero stared up into the darkness for a long while.  
“I can’t believe I still miss him,” Trowa confessed.  
Heero rolled over so that he was facing Trowa. He reached out and pulled Trowa against him, settled Trowa’s back against his front and spooned him the way he had done years ago, back in high school.  
“I hate that I still -” Heero caught himself. He wasn’t even sure what he had been about to say.  
Still missed him? Sure. Still wanted him? Pathetically true. Still needed him? Probably, judging from the way his damn pulse had shuddered at Duo’s proximity, at the way Duo had looked at Relena like she was crazy, had been on the exact same page as Heero still, after all this time. Still loved him?  
Heero hoped to hell that wasn’t the case.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: So, I blame this entirely on Free! but also on the fact that Penumbra is just a pile of horribly depressing nonsense right now and I can’t fix it yet.   
A/N #2: So… this is kind of an experiment, I guess. It’s really two stories, told at the same time, 14-10 years apart.  
A/N #3: Not a cross-country expert. Just researching what I can. If any of you ARE runners and want to share precious intel I’m happy to hear it!

Warnings: Angst, language, sex, angst  
Pairings: 1X2X3 and others

Before Now  
Chapter Five

Before

Barton’s liked their beauty sleep. At least, that’s what Cathy always muttered when, on Sundays, both she and Trowa slept in until almost noon before getting up.   
Of course, now that it was winter break, Trowa slept in until noon almost every day, as did Cathy. She at least had the excuse of working later, of not getting home until the early hours of the morning every day. But Trowa figured that his excuse - lazy teenager - was one he should try to hold onto and take advantage of for the precious few weeks that he could.  
Which meant that he was incredibly reluctant to get out of bed the Thursday morning he heard the doorbell ring. Repeatedly. Nonstop.  
Finally, after five minutes of it not stopping Trowa pushed himself up and stormed out of his room, into the living room and yanked the front door open, prepared to glare down whoever the hell thought it was funny to come by and screw with them.   
He was used to shit like this - used to their house getting tp’d or egged and people ringing the doorbell late at night and then running away laughing. He’d never had to deal with someone trying it at ten in the morning - but maybe it was kids from Granville High wanting to mess with him.  
Of course, as soon as he opened the door he let in a flood of air that was several degrees below freezing and his boxers and t-shirt were definitely not warm enough.  
He was also greeted with the sight of Duo and Heero, standing on his front porch, wearing jackets, gloves, scarves and toboggans.  
“Morning!” Duo said and gave him a bright smile that made Trowa want to murder him. Duo had always been obscenely perky in the mornings - had terrorized everyone on the bus when they had to leave for cross-country track meets at five in the morning - and Trowa figured it was likely Duo’s only real flaw.  
Trowa looked at Heero, who he knew to be sane and logical, and arched an eyebrow.  
Heero sighed.  
“Duo wanted to go sledding.” He stepped aside to reveal the sled he had propped up. It looked shiny and new.  
“Father Maxwell got it - thought it was weird I’d never been sledding before… ‘course I think it’s weird people want to hurl themselves down a mountain on this thing but…”  
“Monroe street is not a mountain,” Heero muttered and rolled his eyes.  
“Might as well be,” Duo replied. He turned back to Trowa. “Want to come?”  
The last time Trowa had been sledding had been two years ago. Michael Corner had dragged him along and Trowa had frozen his ass off, had spent the morning irritated because he was cold and not asleep but then Michael had kissed him, had rubbed his ice cube of a nose against Trowa’s and grinned and the cold and the lack of sleep hadn’t mattered anymore.  
“You’d have to put on some clothes,” Duo continued, pulling Trowa out of the memory.   
Trowa arched an eyebrow.  
“I’d have to?”  
Duo shrugged.  
“I mean that or get frostbite and, I mean… do you want your balls to fall off?”  
Trowa felt his lips twitch.  
“Not really.”  
Duo nodded.  
“Exactly. So get dressed and let’s go!”  
Trowa found himself unable to refuse Duo, his bright eyes and wide grin. And even Heero, stoic and silent, looked hopeful.  
Trowa shrugged.  
“Okay.”  
Duo’s grin nearly split his face.   
“Just give me a few minutes.”  
“Yeah, no problem. Heero and I can build a snowman or something.”  
Heero looked skeptical about the plan, but as Trowa closed the door, Duo was already dragging him over to the snow piled high beside the road.  
Trowa dressed quickly and warmly, putting on a pair of track pants under his thickest jeans and then pulling on two sweaters before grabbing his jacket, gloves and scarf.  
After he put on his boots he knocked at Cathy’s closed door.  
“What?” She croaked and he had to roll his eyes.  
The Barton’s did indeed like their beauty sleep.  
“I’m going sledding with Heero and Duo.”  
“‘k. Don’t die.”  
Trowa joined the two boys outside and arched an eyebrow at the “snowman” they had build. It was fairly small, only coming up to Duo’s knee, and horribly proportioned.  
“Hey,” Duo held up a warning finger before Trowa could comment. “It’s my first time. So the only thing you’re allowed to say is ‘that looks awesome Duo.’”  
Heero looked on the verge of laughing, which was a rare enough sight that Trowa found himself grinning.  
“That looks awesome, Duo.”  
Duo smirked.  
“‘Course it does. I’m a genius - and an artist.”  
Heero rolled his eyes and picked up the sled.  
“Let’s go before the ice melts.”  
Trowa and Duo fell into step behind him.  
The walk was quiet, though Duo was humming what sounded like Christmas carols under his breath, and by the time they walked the mile over to Monroe street Trowa felt awake and invigorated from the cold and the exercise.  
Not surprisingly, there were a few others already at the hill.  
Monroe street was the road that led to the old textile mill that hadn’t been in use for years, and as a result it almost never had much traffic.   
Trowa had gone sledding on Monroe street for as long as he could remember - he even had memories of his father teaching him how to sled when he was still a child - and he knew that Heero had been sledding there for almost as long.  
“Okay… how does this work?” Duo looked at the hill and the sled skeptically.  
“Like this,” Heero said and, without any other explanation, took a running start and then thew himself onto the sled and went careening down the hill.  
“Okay, that looks suicidal,” Duo muttered.  
“It’s not,” Trowa assured him. “It’s fun.”  
Duo didn’t look entirely convinced, but then two young girls raced past them on a sled, screaming in glee, and Duo stumbled backwards to avoid them and tripped on the ice.  
Trowa reached out his right hand and helped him up.  
“I changed my mind. Homicidal. It looks homicidal. Did you see those two demons just try to run me over?”  
“You mean the three year olds?”  
“Yeah. Those demons.”  
Trowa abruptly realized he was still holding Duo’s hand.  
Duo looked down at their hands as well, but he made no move to pull away.  
Trowa felt the sharp, burning cold impact of a snowball with the back of his head at the same moment that he saw Duo’s eyes go wide.  
Trowa let him go and turned around and saw Tom Berls and his friends standing by the side of the road, packing rocks into snowballs.  
“Nobody wants to see that fag stuff here,” Tom Berls called out.  
Trowa felt himself blush, despite the cold, despite the fact that he absolutely did not want to care what Tom Berls and his friends thought about him. But more than that - he didn’t want them to associate Duo with him. Didn’t want Duo to have to put up with this, to hear what they said to Trowa.  
“Nobody wants to hear your bigoted, narrow-minded trash talk but that doesn’t seem to stop you,” Duo called back.  
Trowa felt his heart thud painfully, the fear and adrenaline of a potential fight coursing through his body but also - also Duo hadn’t denied it. Hadn’t stepped away and said that holding his hand meant nothing.  
“What’s going on here?”  
Heero had arrived back at the top of the hill, dragging the sled behind him, and his presence startled Berls and his gang.   
Berls muttered something else about stupid queers, spat in Trowa’s direction, and then walked away with his friends.  
“That’s a pretty cool trick,” Duo said.   
“Only good thing about my father,” Heero muttered. “No one wants to get in trouble.”  
Duo frowned, and Trowa found himself frowning as well. The only good thing about his father?  
“Right. Well, now that this is an asshole free zone, I guess I should try out the death machine.”  
Duo grabbed the sled from Heero.  
“If I die - tell everyone it was cool and not lame, okay?”  
Heero rolled his eyes but Trowa nodded.  
“You died in a tragic sled accident while saving a cat from a burning building. Got it.”

-o-

Now

While Trowa was grateful for the cooler weather of October, and certainly grateful for the end of summer tourists coming to the park and setting things on fire and breaking the rules, he missed the longer hours of daylight. He had enjoyed coming home after a long day and still having hours of daylight to work around his house, instead of coming home and finding it already dark at only six at night already.  
Still, the changing seasons gave him plenty of chances to take photographs while at work, to capture the leaves and the trees and the animals as they shifted from the vibrancy of summer into the muted, warm colors and slower patterns of fall.  
He’d been a junior in high school when he took a photography class as an elective and he had fallen in love with it immediately, hauling his old Nikon around with him everywhere - literally everywhere, to the point that Duo used to pretend to be alarmed if he didn’t see Trowa carrying the camera.  
Photography was one of the few distractions he had always allowed himself in life, and at work. He was passionate about his job, and felt lucky to be able to spend his days - and a few nights - at the park. Still, he didn’t feel too guilty about taking time out of his day to hike up to one of the waterfalls and spend half an hour taking photographs.  
Of course, for the past week he had had an additional distraction tagging along.   
He had decided to start bringing Death to work with him, after he came home and discovered that he had moved on from socks to bed linens.   
Despite the dog’s diminutive size, he seemed perfectly at ease in the park, racing through the woods and chasing after birds and squirrels whenever Trowa let him off his leash.   
Of course one of the other Park Rangers had given Trowa crap about bringing in the dog - had even submitted a report to their superior , but in the end, Trowa had pointed out that Death was a poodle, therefore hypoallergenic, and then lied and said he was beginning his training as a service dog, and his supervisor had shrugged it off.  
Which meant that on Monday night, as Trowa drove home from the park, Death was curled up asleep on the passenger seat after a day spent chasing squirrels and delighting a few leaf-watching tourists with his antics.  
As Trowa pulled his truck into the driveway of his house the headlights splashed across a man sitting on his front porch.  
Duo.  
Trowa jerked his gaze away, parked, and found himself sitting in the truck, glaring at his steering wheel, unable to get out of his truck and face the man he had once dreamed of spending his life with.  
But then Death woke up and was instantly alert, standing on his hind legs and staring out of the window and barking at the man on the porch.  
Trowa sighed and finally dragged himself out of the car, slinging his camera case across his shoulders and scooping up Death before he could make a dash for the porch.  
Duo sat on the top step leading up to the porch, and in the dim streetlight Trowa could make out his face, could see Duo’s dark eyes fixed on him.  
Death was still barking and attempting to break free of Trowa’s hands so that he could investigate the trespasser, but Trowa kept a firm grip on him.  
Maybe it was petty, but he wasn’t all that eager to see Duo and Death reunited on his front porch.  
Trowa walked past Duo on his way up to the porch without pausing and unlocked the door to his house. He started to walk inside, but Duo’s voice stopped him.  
“Tro?”  
Duo sounded uncertain, hurt, fragile and it filled Trowa with anger. Duo was hurt and uncertain? Duo was fragile?  
Duo was the one that had left them in the first place - Duo was the one who had delivered the speech about growing up and facing reality and understanding that there would never be a future for the three of them together.  
Fuck Duo and his uncertainty and his hurt and -   
“Can we talk?”  
And fuck Trowa, for being weak enough that the sound of Duo’s voice was still all it took for him to give in.  
He looked over his shoulder and saw that Duo had stood up and shoved his hands into his pockets.  
“Okay.”  
Duo offered him a slight, faint smirk and followed him inside the house.  
Once Trowa had closed the door behind him, he finally let Death down and the dog wasted no time - he circled around Duo, sniffing and inspecting him and then stood up on his left leg to demand attention.  
Duo smiled, a bitter edge to the expression.  
“He doesn’t remember me.”  
It was clear that Death didn’t remember him. Trowa knew the way that Death had greeted Duo in high school - jumping at him and barking until Duo picked him up and then trying to attack his face with his tongue.  
“Probably better that way,” Duo continued.  
Trowa looked over and saw that Duo was looking at him.  
“Probably,” Trowa agreed.  
He wished he could have forgotten Duo.   
Duo crouched down when Death flopped onto his back and obligingly rubbed his belly.  
“He likes you, even if he doesn’t remember you,” Trowa pointed out.  
Duo nodded.  
“He always was too trusting.”  
Trowa swallowed hard and looked away. He refused to let Duo’s words affect him. He refused to hear what Duo was really saying.  
“Look - I, ah, thanks for taking care of him. Wufei told me you picked him up the day after Father Maxwell died and I - thank you.”  
Trowa shrugged.  
He wondered if Duo had come to take Death away? Wondered if Duo was on his way out of Granville. Wondered if this was the last time he would ever see Duo.  
He thought back to the last time he had seen Duo - when they had both been college students and Trowa had taken a train into the city and thought to visit Duo and he had seen him in front of his dorm, sitting on a blanket with some other guy and Trowa had watched them laugh, had watched Duo kiss him and he had felt a piece of himself wither.   
He drew in a deep breath.  
“You’ve been happy?”  
Duo took a long time to answer, and Trowa finally turned around.  
Duo was standing again, and he looked on the verge of walking out of the house.  
“Yeah. I’ve been - yeah. You? Have you been happy?”  
Trowa shrugged.  
No. He hadn’t been happy, but Duo didn’t need to know that. And it wasn’t as if Trowa was unused to being unhappy.  
Duo scratched at the back of his neck.  
“I… fuck. I don’t even know where to start, Tro.”  
“Don’t.”  
Duo arched an eyebrow.  
“What?”  
“Don’t call me Tro. Don’t - don’t just come back into my life and think that things are the same as they were ten years ago. You left, Duo. You left us. You broke -” Trowa stopped himself and shook his head. “Don’t call me Tro. You aren’t the boy I loved, you aren’t someone who gets to call me that.”  
Duo swallowed so hard that Trowa could see his throat work, could see his eyes tear up.  
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I won’t call you that anymore. I - I’m not that boy, I guess. And we can’t go back, can we?”  
Trowa couldn’t help but sneer.  
“All you ever wanted was to go forward - to get the hell out of Granville. So why did you come back?”  
“You wanted to get out too!” Duo shouted and then looked sheepish at his tone. “Sorry. You wanted to get out too - you used to talk about going to Montana or California or Colorado or Arizona - or Hawaii. And instead you came back here!”  
“This is where I was assigned,” Trowa snapped. “I’m not like you. I don’t get to just pack up and disappear whenever I want.”  
Duo winced.  
“I know. But I - I wanted more for you, Tro -wa. I just wanted you to be happy. And you used to talk about those other places and I always thought… I always thought you’d end up there and you’d be happy.”  
“Well, I didn’t.”  
“I know.”  
They stared at each other for a long, tense moment of angry silence.  
“Why did you come back?” Trowa repeated.  
Duo shrugged.  
“I had to. There was Death and the will and - and I just… had to see this place one last time.”  
Trowa nodded.  
“So you came to get him and now you’re leaving? Let me get his stuff.”  
“Wait. Tro - Trowa wait.” Duo reached out and grabbed Trowa as he started to walk past.  
Trowa struggled out of his grip but Duo held on, pulled him close, and Trowa could smell him. Could smell that same clean, sharp scent that Duo had started wearing the fall of their senior year in high school and damn him.  
“I’m sorry,” Duo said again, his voice muffled against Trowa’s shoulder, his arms tight around Trowa’s back. “I’m sorry, Trowa. I’m so fucking sorry.”  
Duo’s voice sounded broken, sounded like Trowa felt inside, and Trowa found his body responding almost without his choice. He wrapped his arms around Duo, tucked his chin on Duo’s bent head and held him close.  
“I know you hate me,” Duo continued to speak. “And you should. I - I deserve it, Trowa. But I - for fuck’s sake, Tro, I can’t forget you. I tried so damn hard to forget you and Heero and I never could. I can never forget your voice or your eyes or your smile - or your fucking glare. I -”  
Trowa stopped Duo’s words with his mouth. Duo froze and then he kissed Trowa back, pressed against him, dug his fingers into Trowa’s back and teased Trowa’s lips with his tongue until Trowa opened his mouth, until Trowa let him in.  
And then their hands were everywhere, tugging at clothes, at skin and hair and it was rushed, it was completely without finesse and Duo almost broke the coffee table as they stumbled into Trowa’s bedroom.  
He had Duo naked and whimpering on the bed under him, was trailing his tongue and teeth down the length of Duo’s arched neck while Duo frantically stroked Trowa’s cock and Trowa slid lubed fingers into Duo’s tight hole when Duo spoke up.  
“I’m going to leave you again, Tro. I can’t - I’m going to leave again.”  
“I know.”  
They looked at each other for a long, intense moment.   
“You’re going to hate me again.”  
“I know.”  
Duo grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him down for another kiss.  
They didn’t speak again.

-o-


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: So, I blame this entirely on Free! but also on the fact that Penumbra is just a pile of horribly depressing nonsense right now and I can’t fix it yet.   
A/N #2: So… this is kind of an experiment, I guess. It’s really two stories, told at the same time, 14-10 years apart.  
A/N #3: Not a cross-country expert. Just researching what I can. If any of you ARE runners and want to share precious intel I’m happy to hear it!  
A/N #4: The Before is before the Red Sox won the world series again back in 2004. We’re still back in 2001 in Before.

Warnings: Angst, language, sex, angst  
Pairings: 1X2X3 and others

Before Now  
Chapter Six

Before

Something was on Duo’s mind.  
Usually, if something was bothering him, if he felt Heero or Trowa were being too quiet then he just spoke up and called them out. If he was annoyed about classes or some prick saying something to Trowa or to him, then he bitched about it.  
But today he was quiet, scowling as he changed into his running clothes beside Heero in the locker room.   
They were outside, stretching by the road and getting ready to run when Duo finally spoke up.  
“It’s not a big deal or anything.”  
Heero frowned and looked over Duo’s head at Trowa.   
“What’s not a big deal?” Heero asked.  
Duo straightened up and he sighed.  
“Nothing. It’s stupid. It - just - do you guys want to go see the Yankee game this weekend?”  
Trowa arched an eyebrow at Heero and it was clear he was fighting back laughter.  
Heero stared at Duo.  
“You just spent twenty minutes working yourself up to invite us to go to a baseball game with you?”  
Duo scowled and muttered something under his breath and then started running.  
Trowa and Heero exchanged looks. Trowa shrugged and they started after Duo.  
“You don’t have to go,” Duo growled when they caught up.  
“But you… want us to?” Heero guessed.  
Duo glared at him.  
“You don’t.”  
“I don’t fucking care if you come or not. It’s just a stupid baseball game and I’m just saying -”  
Trowa reached over and put his hand on Duo’s arm, pulling him to stop.  
“Do you want us to go or not?”  
Duo glared ahead at the road, a sullen expression on his face. Heero frowned. Duo had a mouth like a sailor, and Heero often wondered if he had given Father Maxwell an aneurysm yet, but he had never really cussed at Trowa and Heero before.  
“I said it didn’t matter. It was just a stupid idea anyway.”  
“I didn’t even know you liked baseball,” Heero had to say.  
“I don’t,” Duo muttered.  
Heero arched an eyebrow at him.  
Duo shrugged.  
“I don’t know, maybe I could. It wasn’t my idea.”  
“Okay…” Trowa sighed. “So whose idea was it?”  
“Father Maxwell. He said we should do something to celebrate or whatever and I don’t know - we watched a game on tv or whatever and he said it was better in person.”  
“Celebrate what?” Heero asked.  
Duo flushed.  
“My birthday.”  
“I didn’t know it was your birthday.”  
Duo shrugged.  
“Yeah, well. It’s not. I mean - I don’t know when it really is but Father Maxwell told me to pick a date and I didn’t think it mattered but then last night he was all ‘let’s celebrate’ or whatever and suggested the baseball game.”  
Duo sounded unenthused, but there was a glimmer in his blue eyes that betrayed his interest in the idea.  
“Is this the first time you’ve celebrated your birthday?” Heero asked him.  
Duo shrugged one shoulder.  
“Maybe. Yeah. I guess.”  
Heero’s birthday last month had passed without much comment, Odin taking him out to dinner and putting money into the savings account that his mother had started for him and the rest of the night spent in awkward silence as they tried to watch Top Gun together.  
“It sounds like a big deal to me,” Trowa said.  
Duo glared at him.  
“It’s not. It doesn’t matter. You don’t have to -”  
“I want to go,” Trowa interrupted him.  
Heero nodded.  
“Me too.”  
Duo sighed.  
“It’s probably going to suck. Riding the train into the city and then the game will probably be boring or whatever and -”  
“It sounds like fun,” Heero insisted.  
“Yeah, I guess,” Duo agreed with a shrug.  
He started to run again and Heero and Trowa fell into step on either side of him.  
“I should probably warn you that I’m a Red Sox fan,” Trowa said after they ran two miles in silence.  
Duo looked over at him.  
“Does that matter?” He asked.  
Heero laughed and Trowa smirked.  
“It matters,” Heero assured Duo. “It means Trowa’s a hopeless romantic.”  
Trowa shrugged, accepting it.  
“Yeah. I guess.”  
“But what the hell does that have to do with baseball?” Duo asked them.

 

Now

When Heero pulled up in front of the house there was an unfamiliar car parked out front, a silver sedan that looked clean to the point of being sterile.  
He frowned and only barely stopped himself from looking into the windows for clues.  
Maybe it was one of Relena’s friends? Another teacher at the school.  
That made him pause - had he forgotten some dinner party tonight?  
Relena did this every few months, insisted on inviting one or two couples over for dinner and Heero almost always forgot, almost always showed up late and felt awkward and out of place in his own home.  
He sighed and tried to muster up some enthusiasm.  
He had had a long day at work, dealing with two punk kids who seemed to be doing their damnedest to get themselves arrested once a week for pranks at Granville High, and all he really wanted to do was sit down and read for a while before going to bed.  
He wasn’t even hungry, but if this was some kind of dinner party then Relena had probably cooked a Julia Child worthy meal and Heero would have to dutifully shovel it down.  
When he opened the front door he could smell the meal and he sighed in relief. It was roasted chicken, which meant it wasn’t a party, probably just one person, maybe two.  
He closed the door and toed off his shoes and walked into the kitchen, knowing Relena liked to talk while she cooked, and sure enough, there she was, smiling and laughing as she sipped a glass of wine and cut the ends off of green beans.  
And sitting at the counter, glass of wine in hand - was Duo.  
He met Heero’s gaze and he looked wary, as though he was waiting for Heero to attack.  
“I didn’t realize we were having company tonight,” Heero managed to say, and he was proud of himself for how neutral it sounded.  
Not neutral enough, though, judging by the way Duo winced.  
“We weren’t,” Relena said and came over to kiss him on the cheek, “but I ran into Duo at the grocery store and he was buying frozen meals and I figured this would be the perfect chance for you two to catch up and save him from eating those disgusting things.”  
“She wouldn’t let me say no,” Duo said, and it sounded like an apology.  
“Of course I wouldn’t! Honestly. It’s bad enough that you’re staying in that house all by yourself and you won’t even try to cook.”  
“I don’t want to mess anything up,” Duo shrugged.  
Heero frowned. He had no idea what they were talking about.  
“Father Maxwell left Duo the house.”  
Wufei had not mentioned that to Heero.  
“You’re staying in Granville?”  
Duo snorted.  
“No, of course not. I’ll sell the house and give the money to the church or whatever. I’m not - I didn’t think he would leave it to me.”  
Heero nodded and he accepted the glass of wine Relena handed him.  
“Why don’t you and Duo go relax in the living room while I finish up in here?” She suggested.  
Duo looked about as enthusiastic about that idea as Heero felt, but they dutifully went into the living room.  
“I’m sorry,” Duo said once Heero sat down on the couch. “I really tried to tell her no.”  
Heero sighed.  
“I’m sure you did.”  
“I did. I even made up some shit about not eating much beef these days because she wanted to make some steak thing and -”  
“I believe you, Duo. It’s hard to say no to her. I get it.”  
Duo seemed deflated.  
He sat down on the far end of the couch and took a huge sip of his wine.  
“Have you seen Trowa?” Heero had to ask.  
Duo nodded.  
“Yeah, he’s taking care of Death. I went by a few days ago - he… Heero.”  
Heero turned at his name, at the raw emotion in Duo’s voice.  
“Heero, he’s miserable.”  
Heero swallowed hard and looked away.  
“I know.”  
“So what - why -and you and Relena?” Duo hissed. “What the hell happened?”  
The question made Heero surprisingly angry.  
“You happened,” he snapped. “You with your speeches and running away - and of course he’s miserable, Duo. We all are.”  
Duo stared at him and Heero realized he had said way too much.  
“Heero -”  
“Dinner is served!” Relena announced, stepping into the room and smiling at them.  
They reluctantly followed her into the dining room.  
“Did Duo tell you he’s going to come and speak to the students this week?”  
Heero looked at him and Duo shrugged.  
“She thinks they care.”  
Relena snorted.  
“Of course they care! So many of them read your books, Duo. I think it’s wonderful for you to take the time to speak to them.”  
“It’s not like I have anything else to do,” Duo said. “And - and if it means something to them then I’m happy to do it.”  
Relena smiled.  
“So you’re staying for a while,” Heero realized.  
Duo shook his head.  
“Hopefully I can leave this weekend. The realtor looked over the house today and she just needs me to go through all of their stuff and figure out what I want to keep.” Duo shrugged. “So I’ll be gone soon.”  
“But you’re at least here for the rest of the week,” Relena concluded. “You, Heero and Trowa should try to spend some time together. Heero, why don’t you three go out tomorrow and -”  
“I can’t. I’m visiting Odin.”  
Relena arched an eyebrow.  
Heero had not been planning on visiting his step-father, but it seemed like the easiest way to get out of whatever Relena was planning.  
Duo frowned.  
“He still lives here?”  
Heero shook his head.  
“No, he’s in a nursing home about twenty minutes away.”  
“Oh.” Duo looked relieved. “I… I guess I hope he’s healthy.”  
Duo and Odin had only ever met twice, and neither meeting had been particularly pleasant, so Heero couldn’t blame Duo for feeling apathetic towards Odin, but he still thought it was strange for him to be relieved that Odin no longer lived in Granville.  
“Well, what about Wednesday night? You could -”  
“No,” Duo interrupted and shook his head. “I’ve got a Skype meeting with my agent on Wednesday night.” He shrugged. “Our schedules just don’t line up well.”  
Relena frowned and looked between them.  
“No, I suppose they don’t,” she agreed.  
The rest of the meal was eaten in silence and Duo ran away as soon as he could, waving away Relena’s offer of coffee and dessert and as he left the house Heero couldn’t help but feel torn.  
He was relieved to have Duo out of his house, to know that there were only a few more days that Duo would be in Granville and then everything would go back to the way it had been. But, he realized, he didn’t want things to go back to the way they had been.  
Duo was right. Trowa was miserable, and Heero knew that it was, in large part, his fault. And Heero was miserable, and as much as he blamed Duo for that, he knew that he was the only one who could really change it.  
After Duo left Heero joined Relena in the kitchen, washing the dishes while she dried them and put away the leftovers.  
“Don’t you think it’s time you forgive him?”  
“What?” He turned to her in shock.  
Relena arched an eyebrow at him.  
“I’m not an idiot, Heero. I know that you three were close in high school and I know that after he left you and Trowa drifted apart and I know that you miss him. Don’t you think it’s time to forgive him for whatever he did?”  
Heero looked away from her and scrubbed the roasting pan furiously.  
She reached out and laid a hand on his arm.  
“Heero.”  
She was using the tone she used on her students when they misbehaved and Heero felt equally annoyed and ashamed to have her using it on him.  
“I know that you… you loved him, didn’t you?”  
Heero turned to look at her.  
“I always thought there was something between you - between you three and… and whatever it was was important, Heero. Surely it meant more than whatever drove you apart?”  
“So you want me to just run after him and tell him that I still love him?” Heero demanded. “I was a kid back then, I was stupid. I was blind. Things have changed. I can’t just pretend the last ten years haven’t happened. I can’t just pretend that he didn’t leave me.”  
Relena drew in a deep breath and she looked on the verge of tears.  
Heero realized what he had just said.  
“Relena.”  
She held up a hand.  
“I always liked you because she didn’t care about the fact that I was the prettiest girl in school, or the most popular girl.”  
Heero frowned. He had no idea where she was going with this.  
“And I know you didn’t care for me all that much in high school but - but you do, now.”  
“Yes,” he agreed. “I do.”  
She reached out and ran her hand over his cheek.  
“I know. But you don’t feel about me the way you feel about him, do you?”  
“No,” he admitted. “And I don’t want to. He -” Heero shook his head. He couldn’t put it into words. He couldn’t explain to Relena how being in love with Duo and Trowa when he was eighteen had made him feel invincible, had given him hope and dreams and made him want to do so many things that he had even forgotten he had once dreamed about. He couldn’t put into words just how empty he felt seeing Duo again, how Duo’s presence only seemed to highlight just how gray he was, how unfulfilled his life was, how he felt around Trowa now, remembering the way things had been before. They way they should be now.  
“I love you,” he told her.  
“I know you do, Heero. I know you do. But you don’t - do you really want to spend the rest of your life with me? Would you really be happy without him? Without Trowa? I know… I know you still see him, Heero.”  
Heero felt ashamed of himself.  
“I’m sorry. I never - I never wanted to hurt you.”  
“And you ended up hurting all of us, Heero. Me, Trowa, yourself - Duo.”  
Heero gripped the edge of the sink.  
“I don’t know what to do.”  
Relena kissed his cheek.  
“Why don’t you take your own advice and follow your emotions?”  
He had said that to her, more than once over the years, whenever she came home frustrated with work, with parents and students and administrators and debated whether or not she should just quit teaching. Whenever she asked his opinion Heero always gave her that response, always told her to think about the things that made her happy and to figure out if they were enough to outweigh the things that frustrated her.  
But this wasn’t like that.  
Heero’s emotions were a mess, a tangled jumble that he had no hope of sorting through.  
And Relena -   
He sighed and looked at her and he realized that whatever else happened, their relationship was over.  
She smiled sadly at him.  
“We had a good run,” she assured him.  
Heero nodded.  
“I’m sorry,” he apologized again. “You deserve someone better.”  
She gave him a teary laugh.  
“Of course I do! I deserve a saint after putting up with your grumpy ass for the last five years.”


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: So, I blame this entirely on Free! but also on the fact that Penumbra is just a pile of horribly depressing nonsense right now and I can’t fix it yet.   
A/N #2: So… this is kind of an experiment, I guess. It’s really two stories, told at the same time, 14-10 years apart.  
A/N #3: Not a cross-country expert. Just researching what I can. If any of you ARE runners and want to share precious intel I’m happy to hear it!  
A/N #4: Before is June 2001 this chapter. Will try to remember to update this.

Warnings: Angst, language, sex, angst  
Pairings: 1X2X3 and others

Before Now  
Chapter Seven

Before

Duo didn’t have much experience with how normal kids greeted the end of a school year, but television and movies had shown him that celebrations were in order, probably something crazy and stupid that he would regret for years to come and never want to talk about again.  
But instead, when school let out for the summer on Friday afternoon Duo walked home, dropped off his backpack in relief, and then walked down to the church to help Helen out with the daycare the church ran.   
He had started helping out earlier in the spring, when Helen had mentioned that her normal assistant was about to give birth and she could use a hand. Duo had been wary at first, because the only kids he had ever really spent time with were the kind of kids who picked pockets and ate out of trash cans, but it had been surprisingly easy to deal with them, to play games and sit with them and try to teach them how to read and bandage up their knees when they fell down.   
Duo knew it was probably lame to enjoy it so much, to look forward to going to the church and hanging out with a bunch of three year olds, but the kids were a hell of a lot easier to spend time with than most of the other people in Granville.  
But Duo was fully prepared to embrace his own lameness, to the extent that when he got home that night he was so exhausted that all he did was go upstairs and fall down face first on his bed and go to sleep before it was even nine o’clock.  
To continue the lame parade, he was up at nine the next morning, instead of sleeping in until noon - which he was pretty certain was a requirement for the first Saturday of summer vacation - dressed and walked downtown to meet Trowa and Heero by the bus station so they could ride out to the state park and go running.  
Neither Heero or Trowa were morning people, so Duo kept up a steady monologue as they ran, talking about the baseball game he and Father Maxwell had watched on Tuesday night, making sure to work in a few snarky comments about the Red Sox just to see if Trowa was listening and to show off what he had been learning about the rivalry between the two teams.  
After four miles they came to a stop by the lake and Duo felt a moment of ‘why not’ as he stared out at the clear water, the reflection of the morning sun dancing across the waves.  
He tugged his shirt off.  
Trowa looked over at him an arched an eyebrow.  
“The water’s cold this early in the summer,” Trowa said.  
Duo shrugged.  
“Can’t be that cold,” he insisted. Hell, it was almost ninety - apparently a record high.   
Trowa gave him a look, the look Duo already recognized as his ‘don’t say I didn’t warn you look’ but he pulled off his own shirt.  
Duo smirked and looked over at Heero.  
Heero sighed and started to undress as well.  
A breeze blew Duo’s hair into his face as he pulled off his shorts and underwear and it gave him pause.  
He looked up and saw that Trowa was already naked, hands on his lean hips, staring out at the water.  
“Like… how cold?” Duo had to ask.  
Trowa chuckled, glanced over his shoulder at Duo with a mischievous smirk, and then ran into the water. His pale body splashed through the shallows and then disappeared as Trowa dove in. He resurfaced a few seconds and a few feet later, his hair plastered to the side of his skull, and he arched his eyebrow in a challenge.  
“Fuck. It’s fucking freezing isn’t it?” Duo realized.  
“Probably,” Heero agreed, sounding somewhere between amused and resigned.  
Duo groaned, but Heero held out his hand.  
Duo sighed and slid his fingers between Heero’s.  
Together, they sprinted into the water and Duo knew he let out a completely unmanly shriek as he felt the first splashes of the coldest water imaginable hit him, but Heero tugged him on and they lost their balance when they reached the thigh deep water and Duo fell in.  
He came up sputtering and shivering and swearing and saw Heero and Trowa, shoulder deep in the water, laughing at him.  
Duo glared.  
“It’s not too bad, is it?” Trowa asked.  
Duo splashed him.  
“It’s like the fucking Arctic, Tro,” Duo growled.  
Trowa smirked.  
“You both knew it was going to be this cold, and you did it anyway.”  
Trowa shrugged.  
“My Dad and I used to come fishing out here - I remember how cold the water was early in the summer.”  
Heero nodded.  
“My Mom used to swim out here, but she always waited until July.”  
Duo swallowed hard. Neither Heero or Trowa talked about their parents often, or at all really. Still, it sounded like they didn’t mind the memories - or at least the two they had mentioned.  
Duo knew he had little to contribute to the conversation.  
His mother had been a junkie and overdosed when he was five and as far as Duo could remember, hadn’t been too keen on giving him baths much less taking him swimming. And Duo’s father, a small-time thief who had been shot to death while breaking into the wrong house, probably had no idea how to even bait a hook much less any interest in fishing.  
Duo sighed. Yeah. Best to keep those thoughts to himself.  
Trowa was looking at him.  
“When do you leave for El Salvador?”  
Duo had tried to play it off, had tried to be nonchalant and sound bored when he told Heero and Trowa about the mission trip the Maxwells were taking him on. But they knew him well enough, and after his epic failure to downplay his birthday, they probably had his number anyway. Duo was sure parts of it would be boring - specifically all of the parts involving the Bible - but he was also excited about getting to leave the country. He’d never even been outside of New York state before, and now he was going to another continent. Father Maxwell had also told him it would be hard work - helping to build homes and shelters for the hundreds of thousands of people who were still homeless after the earthquakes in January and February. It probably added to Duo’s inherent lameness that he was excited about that - about the idea of helping people.  
“Next week,” he said.  
Trowa nodded.  
“And you - when do you head out to Boy Scout camp?”  
Trowa rolled his eyes.  
“Appalachian Mountain Club,” Trowa corrected him.  
“Same thing, right?”  
“It’s not until July,” Trowa answered the question, ignoring the taunt.  
Duo thought it sounded crazy - twenty days of backpacking with other teenagers and learning wilderness survival skills - but Trowa, who Duo also sometimes thought sounded crazy, hadn’t even bothered to hide his excitement when he told Duo and Trowa about it.  
Duo wondered if Trowa wanted to get out of Granville so badly he was willing to sleep in the dirt, or if he really just enjoyed being out in nature that much.  
He looked over at Heero. Heero hadn’t shared his summer plans with them.  
“What about you?” Duo asked him.  
Heero frowned.  
“I don’t have any plans.”  
“You mean except for running seven miles every day so that you can kick our asses at the time trials in the fall,” Duo said.  
Heero smirked slightly.  
“Aside from those plans.”  
Heero floated on his back, not answering.  
Duo sighed.  
He didn’t really get Heero’s life. He had picked up a few clues - knew he and his step-father didn’t get along, and Duo sure as hell didn’t get along with Odin Lowe.  
Duo had met him only once, when Duo was walking downtown and had found a wallet on the street and picked it up to look inside for an ID. And of course Police Chief Odin Lowe had swooped in, had accused him of trying to steal the money and Duo had glared and told him to fuck off because that’s what he always said to cops and of course that had earned Duo a ride in the backseat of a squad car as Odin drove Duo home and had a serious conversation with Father Maxwell.   
Father Maxwell, who had been solemn as he saw Odin out of the house and then turned to Duo and asked him what happened, had been patient and insisted he didn’t care what Odin had said, just wanted to know what Duo had to say and in the end Duo had told him and Father Maxwell had nodded and asked Duo if he wanted to split a sandwich before Helen came home and that had been the end of it.  
“We’re going to come back and you’re going to be so much faster,” Duo complained, knowing he shouldn’t push.  
“Speak for yourself,” Trowa said, giving him a superior look. “I’m doing wilderness survival training.”  
Duo rolled his eyes.  
“Yeah, but unless they’re teaching you how to run from bears, it’s not going to be much practice for cross-country is it?”  
“You don’t run from bears,” Heero spoke up, still floating on his back. “They’ll just kill you.”  
Duo and Trowa exchanged a look. Captain Depression was getting a bit too deep, and it was clear they were both on the same page.  
They dove under the frigid water and swam over to Heero and pulled him under.

Now

It had been beyond weird the first night, sleeping in his old room, seeing the posters of Andy Pettitte and Derek Jeter, of the bookshelves crammed with old paperbacks and the Yankees memorabilia on the walls and the desk.  
Hell, even the Yankees sheets were still on the bed, and Duo had to wonder when they had last been changed - had to wonder if they had been on the bed since Helen’s death or if Father Maxwell had ever washed and changed them and it made him angry and guilty and he didn’t sleep at all that first night, just curled up in the stupid sheets and clutched them against his skin and cried into his pillow and felt worthless.   
They had left his room the same, had had it ready for him, had been waiting for him to come back and he never had. Never could, and that wasn’t his fault - Duo hadn’t been the one to choose this, Duo hadn’t been the one to do this. It sure as hell hadn’t been Duo’s choice to leave like he had, and now here he was, back in his old bed, the bed where he and Heero had first traded blow jobs, the bed where he and Trowa had held each other and watched National Geographic specials because Trowa had as much of a hard on for nature as he did for Duo or for Heero.  
And he was alone. In the bed, in the house.  
After a week of it he still wasn’t used to it, and he was pretty certain that there was no way he could become accustomed to this haunted house. It probably would have helped if he had Death with him, but the realtor had said it would be better if the house was dog free and hell, Death didn’t even remember him - Death was perfectly fucking happy to curl up against Trowa’s feet and shoot Duo a protective look when Duo had crawled out of bed in the early hours of the morning and left them.   
And after last night’s disastrous fucking dinner with Heero and Relena, Duo wanted now more than ever to get the hell out of Granville.   
But doing that meant spending time in the house, meant going through the boxes in the attic, through the books and the photo albums and it meant remembering.  
His first instinct had been to just get rid of everything, but Hilde had given him that look, that ‘tell me again why I ever wasted my time on you in the first place’ look she had developed over the years and Duo had known he couldn’t just hire someone to box it all up and give it away. Even without her look, Duo had known he couldn’t do that, couldn’t do that to the life that Helen and Father Maxwell had made.  
But it didn’t mean he knew what the fuck to do - what he even wanted to keep.   
The house was the antithesis of his apartment, his decorating style as different from Helen’s as it was possible to be. She had always liked warm things, earthy accents, flowers everywhere, rugs and cushions and blankets and photos on every surface. Duo preferred to keep things sparse, the color palette at his loft apartment cool and neutral and more than one guy had asked him if he was obsessed with post-industrialism or something and Duo had shrugged because sure, whatever that meant sounded better than the truth. Duo kept the apartment cold and bare because the last time he had been in a place that was warm and felt like home he had wanted to kill himself.   
So Duo tried to numb his memories and dull his brain by drinking. A lot. When he’d gone by the liquor store yesterday after the dinner from hell and purchased four fifths of Grey Goose and no mixers the guy behind the register had actually asked Duo if he was okay, to which Duo replied that no, he wasn’t okay, and hadn’t been okay since he was in high school. The poor guy had looked confused and a little scared so Duo had apologized, cradled his alcohol, and walked back to his car.  
Last night he had made a dent in his old room, had put together two boxes of books that didn’t have too many memories attached to them and shoved them in the corner and half-hoped he remembered to take them back to New York, half-hoped he forgot.  
And tonight, as he started in on the second bottle of vodka, Duo decided to tackle Father Maxwell’s home office.   
Duo had a lot of memories of this room, of looking through the floor to ceiling books and always knowing he could pull something out at random and it would be interesting and he would lose hours of his life just sitting on the floor by the fireplace reading until Father Maxwell came to get him.   
Duo sighed. He should probably just let Gibson take all of the books.   
Duo sat down in the well-worn leather armchair by the fireplace.  
Helen had tried to get rid of the chair for years, had insisted the springs it in stabbed her ass whenever she sat down in it and Father Maxwell had just laughed and suggested that she just sit on his lap instead and Duo had had to roll his eyes and walk away whenever they did stuff like that, because he knew that grown ups had sex and whatever, that was fine, but really… did they have to talk about it?  
Duo shifted. The springs did stab you in the ass. As he shifted his eyes landed on the two hundred year old Latin Bible that had always fascinated him.  
Father Maxwell wasn’t Catholic, but he had the Bible anyway, referenced it and tried to teach Duo Latin from it.  
Duo set down the bottle of vodka and reached for the Bible.  
He ran his fingers over the spine, over the faded gold gilding and turned the heavy book over. There was a gap in the Bible, something shoved into it that separated the pages.  
Duo frowned. He remembered that Helen had sometimes scavenged for big, thick books she could press flowers between - but she had never gone near the Bible.  
He opened the pages to Samuel and found an envelope.  
Dearest David  
He slammed the Bible shut and in his haste dropped it on the floor.  
Duo swore and picked it up and then he felt stupid, felt like an idiot and an asshole and - Jesus Fucking Christ.   
He drew in a deep breath and opened the Bible again.   
Samuel. Of course. Duo didn’t remember that much Latin, had never been that good at reading it, but he recognized the chapter number, seventeen.  
Duo picked up the envelope.  
He remembered the last time had had received one of these - after Helen had died. Duo hadn’t come back for the funeral, had sent flowers, enough flowers that Hilde had made a comment about Helen’s coffin being bathed in them and Father Maxwell tearing up at the sight because Duo hadn’t care about convention, about sending Lily of the Valley or whatever was appropriate and had instead sent azaleas because Helen loved them.  
The week after the funeral he had come back to his apartment and found a package, had recognized the writing as Father Maxwell’s and had stared at the damn thing for two days before he finally worked up the courage to open it and he found a dried, pressed bunch of azalea’s and an envelope with his name on it and Helen’s handwriting.  
He’d been wrecked for weeks after that, questioning himself, questioning what he was doing with his life and why the hell he was such a coward and what the fuck was wrong with him and why he couldn’t be happy and why he couldn’t just… couldn’t just be the glowing beacon of humanity that Helen had died thinking he was.  
Duo drank until he coughed against the burn and had to put the half empty bottle of vodka down.  
He stared at the letter and he wished it would just go away. Wished he could just put it back in the Bible and pretend he had never found it.  
But that - that was too cowardly, even for Duo.  
So, with trembling fingers, he opened it.

My Dearest David,  
I love you, son. I have loved you since the day I saw you at Tryon and I have been proud of you for just as long. Every year I sit down to re-write this letter and every year I begin the same, because whatever else may change in our lives, I will always love you and I will always be proud of you.  
I know you’ve never cared for your Christian name, and I will never forget the night you sat down and argued that Goliath was a disadvantaged man who tried to be a hero for his people and that David was the real villain in the story. As amusing as that was, I have always wondered if that is not how you see yourself, if you do not fear that you are the villain, if you do not see how truly good you are, how amazing and perfect.  
Despite everything that has happened in your life, you have such an amazing capacity to love, David. You have so much faith and hope within you and I will never forgive myself for making you doubt those things, for making you lose faith and hope with me and with yourself.  
I let you down. I was not the father you needed, and I will never be able to change what I did not do for you, David. Whatever mercy and forgiveness the Lord may choose to show me, I know that I will not deserve it and I know that I let you stand alone, that you had to face the army as a child and I should have stood beside you, whatever my reservations, whatever fears I had in my heart. I should not have let you down.  
I will always love you, David, and if we ever meet again, in this life or the next, I won’t waste one second of the time we are given, I will remind you that you are one of God’s children, one of his favorite children and he has blessed you with so many talents, so many strengths, so that you can overcome the challenges of this world and find the happiness you deserve. And I promise I will stand beside you this time, David. I will show you the love you deserve and I will endeavor to be worthy of your forgiveness.  
I will love you always my son,  
Jonathan Maxwell


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: So, I blame this entirely on Free! but also on the fact that Penumbra is just a pile of horribly depressing nonsense right now and I can’t fix it yet.   
A/N #2: So… this is kind of an experiment, I guess. It’s really two stories, told at the same time, 14-10 years apart.  
A/N #3: Not a cross-country expert. Just researching what I can. If any of you ARE runners and want to share precious intel I’m happy to hear it!  
A/N #4: Before is August 2001 this chapter. Will try to remember to update this.  
A/N #5: Whew… angst Trowa times ahead...

Warnings: Angst, language, sex, angst  
Pairings: 1X2X3 and others

Before Now  
Chapter Eight

Before

The first time Trowa saw Duo again was in the locker room.  
He walked in to change into his running clothes for the first practice of the season and saw Duo half naked, his shirt caught on his arms and around his head, his long braid of hair and the way he wore his boxer briefs low on his narrow hips the only indication of his identity.  
He had changed over the summer, had put on weight and muscle and grown tan. His torso was golden and freckled and his legs long and lean and his thighs -  
Trowa walked into the bench separating the lockers and swore, angry and embarrassed to have been so distracted.  
Duo jerked his shirt off and saw Trowa. He grinned broadly.  
“Hey!”  
Duo stepped over the bench and threw his arms around Trowa in a fierce hug that took Trowa completely by surprise.   
God. He felt good.   
Duo had hugged him before, a few times, the last being when he and and Heero stopped by the night before Duo left for the summer and they watched a Yankees game together in Duo’s room and ate pizza. Hugging Duo had felt good then. Hugging Duo now felt… criminal.  
Trowa extricated himself and fought in vain against a blush and a hard on.   
Duo’s smile faltered and his cheeks turned red, but he squeezed Trowa’s left shoulder and stepped away.  
“It’s good to see you, Tro,” he said. He started to walk back to his locker, but he stopped and leaned in close to Trowa. “And remind me to tell you about how I got a hard on this summer every time I saw the UNESCO truck drive by the village I stayed in.”  
Trowa arched an eyebrow but Duo nodded solemnly.  
“Every time. So damn embarrassing.”  
Duo walked back over to his locker to continue changing and Trowa drew in a deep breath and forced himself to do the same.  
Heero came in late, barely having time to change before Khushrenada called them out to the field, and he looked… not exactly angry, but tense at least, when he returned Duo’s hug of greeting as well. And again, Duo’s smile faltered slightly.  
Trowa felt guilty for that, guilty that he had made Duo feel awkward, guilty that he couldn’t control himself around his friend.  
He barely listened to Khushrenada opening speech, or the introductions, and it was a relief when they were finally running. It felt normal, and when Duo started to talk about his summer, trying his best to get either Heero or Trowa to crack a smile, that too felt normal, and Trowa let Duo’s voice and the pounding of his feet on the earth lull him.   
They had run three miles before Duo seemed to tire of his own voice and asked Heero and Trowa about their summers.  
Heero shrugged, which made Duo roll his eyes, but since Heero still looked upset, Duo didn’t push him.  
Instead, he turned his attention to Trowa and arched an eyebrow.  
“It was okay.”  
Duo groaned.  
“It was okay? I thought you were living out your mountain man fantasies - how was it only okay?”  
“It was good,” Trowa amended.  
Duo looked expectant, clearly wanting details, but Trowa hesitated.  
He didn’t have any amusing anecdotes, not like Duo. He could, of course, tell them about the long days spent hiking, how good it felt to be exhausted every night, to sit around a fire and look up at the night sky and see the entire galaxy stretched out above him and how he had felt so insignificant when surrounded by nature, so quiet and at peace when no one tried to talk to him, that it had been hard to come back. But they didn’t want to hear that, and besides, Duo would worry about him if he knew that Trowa enjoyed feeling insignificant, enjoyed knowing his existence was small and temporary. Heero, even, would question that. Or, worse, he would agree and then Duo really would have something to worry about.  
He could, of course, tell them about Nathan.   
His tent-mate, another quiet guy, two years older than Trowa and from Maine, Nathan had been on the hike before and had enjoyed pointing out things to Trowa without forcing him into conversation. Trowa had enjoyed that too, and had enjoyed the evenings they spent in the tent together.   
On their third night, Nathan had caught him masterbating and Trowa had been unable to breathe, he had been so embarrassed. And then Nathan had shrugged, had zipped the tent back up and told him it was normal, they were both guys, no need to be embarrassed, and he didn’t mind - he was even happy to give Trowa a hand if he wanted.  
No, he couldn’t really tell them about that. He couldn’t tell them about the first time someone else had touched his cock, the first time he had orgasmed while kissing someone, the first time he had come in someone’s mouth, the first time he had heard someone whisper his name or the first time he had tasted the salty, bitter cum of someone else.  
So, instead of giving Duo any details, Trowa just shrugged and looked away, because remembering Nathan while looking at Duo was a bad thing. Because it made Trowa wonder what it would feel like to have Duo’s mouth on his cock.  
He felt himself growing hard again and he mentally cursed himself. He needed to control himself, needed to stop fantasizing about Duo and -  
Heero pulled ahead of them a little and Trowa found his attention glued to Heero’s thighs, to his trim backside and -  
He tripped over a rock and went sprawling into the dirt.  
Duo and Heero both stopped, both knelt down beside him, put their hands on him, concern on their faces and they were so close to him Trowa felt momentarily claustrophobic.  
“You okay, buddy?” Duo asked, one hand gripping his shoulder tightly.  
Heero’s hands were on his right ankle, carefully pressing around the flesh and Trowa shivered.  
“Does it hurt?” Heero asked, mistaking his reaction.  
“No,” Trowa grunted and he pulled away from them.  
He stood up and couldn’t help the wince as he put weight on the ankle. Okay. It hurt.  
His friends frowned at him.  
“I’m fine,” he insisted. “I’m fine.”

-o-

Now

Trowa wasn’t much of a cook. Food was an unfortunate necessity in his life, and he kept meals as simple as he could - sandwiches or salads for lunch, cereal for breakfast, and mostly baked or sauteed chicken and fish with rice and greens for dinner. It was boring, it was bland, but it was enough and it meant he didn’t spend hours of his life in the grocery store every week trying to put together complicated menus.  
Instead, Trowa had refined his once a week grocery store trip to just under an hour, which was perfect, because it meant he was unlikely to run into anyone when he was there.   
He used to, before he had perfected his shopping route and found himself lingering in the aisles. On more than one occasion he had had to watch Relena and Heero shopping together, had had to ignore how much it bothered him to be ignored by Heero.  
As it was, the last time he had seen them at the store had been a year ago, and he was hoping he could keep that record going.   
But as he parked in front of Shop Rite he couldn’t help but recognize Relena’s car a few spots away and he sighed and contemplated going home and coming back later.  
It was stupid, and he mentally berated himself for the very idea and forced himself to get out of the truck.  
As he did, he saw Relena coming towards him, alone, pushing a half full shopping cart.  
“Trowa,” she greeted him with a wan smile.  
“Relena.”  
She looked… different. Not her usual self.  
“How is Duo?” She asked.  
Trowa shrugged.  
“I’m sure he’s fine.” He wondered why Relena was asking.  
“You don’t know?”  
“He went back to New York yesterday.”  
Relena glared at him.  
“What? For good?”  
“Not yet. He needed to meet with his agent. I think he’s coming back next week.”  
Relena was scowling, was looking more upset that Trowa had seen her since high school.  
“Not yet,” she repeated. “He hasn’t left for good yet and you and Heero are just… what? Sitting back and twiddling your thumbs?”  
Trowa stared at her.  
“Relena -”  
“Trowa. I did not just… wreck my entire life so that you two could just let him go off again.”  
“Relena, I have no idea what you are talking about.”  
It was her turn to stare at him.  
“Heero hasn’t… Heero hasn’t told you.”  
“Hasn’t told me what?”  
Relena bit her lip and looked away. She drew in a deep breath.  
“I… ended things with Heero last week. I know about you - about you and Heero, about the three of you back in school.”  
Trowa momentarily found it difficult to breathe.  
“I’m sorry,” he had to say.  
Relena sniffed and met his gaze again, her blue eyes bright.  
“I’m sure you are, Trowa. But that… I thought I could make him happy. I couldn’t. And I want him to be happy - I want him to be happy and I want to be happy so it was time to end it.”  
Trowa nodded.  
Relena wiped at her eyes.  
“Anyway. I need to be going. Quatre is coming over for dinner tonight and I don’t want to be late.”  
Trowa stepped aside and let her push her cart past him.  
It wasn’t until he was in the checkout line that it really hit him, that he really, really understood what this meant.  
The last time Trowa had spoken to Heero had been the Friday night Heero came over and slept in his bed, the night Trowa confessed that he still missed Duo, the night Heero had spooned with him for the first time since they were in high school.  
And that had been weeks ago.  
Heero hadn’t told him about Relena.  
Heero hadn’t told him anything, hadn’t spoken to him, hadn’t been to see him.  
Why?


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: I am indeed alive and will TRY to update my WIPs. My baby is almost two months old, and I’m still learning how to, you know, keep her alive and keep myself sane so I can make absolutely no promises about an update schedule. But I do want to work to finish up the things I’ve left hanging.

A/N #2: I also just want to say that reviews - even if it’s a three word “Yes! An Update!” - mean the world to me. They are super encouraging and motivating and I’m getting back to these pieces because of a series of really, really amazing PMs on here and tumblr and I cannot say enough how much it means to get a message from someone after so long saying how much they appreciated my work. So… thank you. Very, very, very much.

Warnings: Angst, language, sex, angst  
Pairings: 1X2X3 and others

Before Now   
Chapter Nine

Before

One hour.  
Just sixty minutes and then freedom from what Heero could only describe as hell.  
If he had ever wondered if he could fit in with his classmates this proved, beyond a doubt, that he could not.  
Relena's annual Halloween parties had been a night of torture for as long as Heero could remember- in fact one of his earliest memories was of his mother dropping him off at Relena's in the ladybug costume she had made him because, at the age of three, he had been obsessed with ladybugs. All of the other boys had been dressed as superheroes or monsters, the girls as princesses or fairies, and Heero had been laughed at, had been pushed around and had his snacks stolen.  
The Halloween parties in all the years since hadn't been much of an improvement, but after Heero's mother died he hadn't bothered to put any effort into his costumes- he had always worn whatever she made him and suffered through the insults of the other kids because her smiles were worth it.  
But after her death he put as little effort as possible into his costumes- two years ago he had just worn all black and when Relena had asked what he was supposed to be he had made up something on the spot, claiming he was dressed like a ninja.  
This year, however, things were different.  
Duo had dragged both Trowa and Heero to the mall a few weeks ago and insisted they get real Halloween costumes for the party. Trowa had gone with them to the mall, but refused to attend the party or get a costume for himself.   
That didn't stop him from commenting on every costume Duo and Heero tried on- and it hadn't saved him from Duo forcing him to try on a Robin Hood costume.  
In the end, Heero had reluctantly agreed to wear the Harry Potter costume that both Duo and Trowa had decided would be perfect for him. Duo had gone the more traditional route of a vampire costume - complete with false fanged teeth and a cape that he practiced swirling around in for at least twenty minutes before Trowa distracted him with the suggestion of going to the mall arcade before they caught the next bus home.  
It had been fun, trying on the costumes and seeing Trowa smirk and hearing Duo laugh. Heero wished that Trowa had given in and agreed to go to Relena’s party with them, but he could understand why he didn’t want to. If Heero could have avoided the party without Odin questioning him and calling him anti social he would have passed. As it was, he was incredibly grateful that Duo would be there suffering with him.  
He was even more grateful that he and Duo plans to go over to Trowa’s house after making an appearance at Relena’s party and spend the rest of the night watching scary movies. Heero still couldn’t quite believe that Odin had agreed to it - but Helen Maxwell had cornered him at the grocery store and somehow convinced Odin that Heero spending the night at Trowa’s house not only made sense but would be a good thing.   
Heero had been afraid to bring it up or remind Odin of the plans until the morning of Halloween. Odin had scowled, but nodded and admonished Heero to be on his best behavior and to not be late for school the next day.  
So now, Heero was standing in a corner in a crowded room in Relena’s house scowling at anyone who even tried to talk to him.  
Relena had been delighted with his costume - she had dressed up as Hermione Granger, teasing her hair out to frightening disarray - and declared them a perfect couple.  
Duo had, thankfully, pulled Heero away from her and steered him towards a table laden with soda and candy, muttering something about Relena clearly not reading the books because Harry and Draco were the perfect couple, which made Heero arch an eyebrow at him and Duo had blushed, shrugged and shoved a plastic cup of soda into his hand.  
They had managed to stay on the sidelines of the party, really only talking to Quatre and Wufei when they showed up, but then a girl with shockingly purple hair, solid black clothes and bright red lipstick had walked over, grabbed Duo’s hand and dragged him away, Duo laughing and smirking at Heero over his shoulder as he disappeared into the crowd.  
That had been almost an hour ago.  
Heero had been counting, checking his watch every few minutes because Duo had promised that after one hour they could leave.  
With only two minutes left on the hour, Heero went in search of Duo. He had no idea who the purple haired girl was - maybe she was Hilde, who Duo had mentioned last week as the pyromaniac girl he had been partnered with in Honors Chemistry - but he couldn’t help but feel annoyed that Duo had vanished with her for nearly an hour and left Heero to fend off Relena on his own.  
He found them only after Zechs, Relena’s older brother who looked even more miserable than Heero felt but had apparently been suckered into chaperoning his younger sister’s party, suggested he check the back deck.  
It was cold enough outside that Heero wondered just why Duo would even be out there, but when he stepped out onto the deck he spotted Duo and Hilde immediately. Duo was seated in a deck chair and Hilde was on his lap, Duo’s hands on her hips and his mouth latched onto hers.  
Heero stared for a long, incredibly uncomfortable minute before they broke contact and he could hear them both suck in deep, uneven breaths.  
He cleared his throat and Hilde freaked out, jumping off of Duo and almost falling on her ass before Duo caught her and helped her stand up.  
“Hey, Heero buddy,” Duo said, standing himself and running a hand through his bangs. His lips were red and swollen and Heero wondered why he couldn’t look away from Duo’s mouth. He felt his own face grow red when Hilde cleared her throat.  
He instantly felt like an idiot and he was furious with himself. He felt like a pervert and a third wheel and he needed to leave.  
“I’m go to Trowa’s house. It’s been an hour.” He paused. “I’ll tell him you’re busy.”  
“What? No. I’m not busy. I mean -” Duo gave Hilde an awkward glance. “I mean we had plans and I promised we would hang out tonight so…”  
Hilde shrugged one shoulder.  
“If you want to get out of here I can go with you,” she said.  
“No.” Heero snapped. He didn’t know why, but the thought of Hilde crashing their night was even worse than the thought of staying at this party any longer.  
Hilde looked hurt and Duo shocked.  
“Um…” Duo started to talk.  
“Are you coming or not?” Heero demanded.   
Duo looked between Hilde and Heero and Heero felt his stomach twist. He knew already that Duo wasn’t going to come - Duo was abandoning him. Abandoning him and Trowa and really, Heero should have seen it coming.  
He should have seen it coming from the very first moment Duo forced him to talk to him, to like him and -  
“Yeah, of course I’m coming,” Duo said. “Jeez man.” He smirked at Hilde. “I’ll call you later?”  
She nodded, glared at Heero, and walked back inside.  
Heero felt cold and miserable and stupid.  
“Heero -” Duo sounded apologetic and it made Heero feel even worse.  
“Let’s just go,” he said and he hoped Duo didn’t realize how relieved he was that Duo had chosen him over Hilde.

 

Now

The nurse at the front desk arched an eyebrow when Heero walked in.  
“Twice in one week?” He asked Heero. “Odin will be thrilled to see you again.”  
“He won’t even realize this is the second time,” Heero pointed out.  
“He might,” the nurse countered while Heero signed in. “He’s outside today - on the south lawn.”  
Heero nodded and went in search of his step father.  
The nursing home was nice - expensive enough that Odin’s pension and savings didn’t quite cover the costs and Heero had to contribute money towards Odin’s care - but no matter how nice it was, it didn’t seem to meet with Odin’s approval.  
Each time Heero visited him, Odin always had something to complain about - whether it be the blankets on his bed, the temperature of the bathroom, the sound of the air conditioning, the lack of salt in the food - complaints seemed to be the sole focus of Odin’s attention these days.  
Early on, three years ago when Heero had first moved Odin to the home, he had been alarmed by Odin’s complaints and considered moving him to a different facility until he had spoken with the director of the nursing home and the children of some of the other patients. The home was every bit as nice as the price tag that came with it. Odin just found issue with everything.  
That, at least, was something Heero was used to.  
He had grown used to everything else - had grown accustomed to listening to Odin tell him the same thing several times, had learned not to try to correct Odin when he assumed Heero was someone else, and he had even managed to keep his face blank when Odin spoke about Heero, about his childhood or his mother.  
Heero found Odin sitting on a bench overlooking the south lawn, as the staff called it.  
“Hey.” Heero said as he sat down beside Odin.  
Odin looked over at him and frowned.  
“It’s not Thursday.”  
Heero nodded and he had to smile. Odin was lucid. That was good.  
“No, it’s Saturday, but I needed to talk to you about something.”  
“You and Relena are going to get married.”  
“No,” Heero sighed. Odin had been asking him about that for years - whenever he was lucid he seemed obsessed with Heero and Relena getting married. “No, we aren’t. In fact, she’s moving out and I’m going to sell the house.”  
Odin stared at him.  
“What did you do?”  
Heero clenched his jaw. Odin was right to ask that - because it was Heero’s fault. Heero had done everything wrong but he couldn’t say that to Odin. He couldn’t just come out and tell him that what he had done was realize he was still in love with two men he had known for fourteen years. That what he had done was cheat on Relena for years, made Trowa miserable for years, made himself miserable for years.  
“You signed the house over to me before we moved you here. But I wanted to let you know that I’m selling it. It’s not… I don’t want to live there by myself.”  
“Fix things with Relena,” Odin said, his voice the same commanding tone Heero had heard so often over the years.  
“No. I can’t. And -”  
“This is because of that damn boy, isn’t it?”  
“What?”  
“Is he bothering you again? I can get Zechs to fix it. He was supposed to take care of this.”  
“Odin, what are you talking about?” It was clear Odin was no longer lucid, but Heero wasn’t able to follow whatever memory Odin seemed to be lost in.  
“Go get Zechs. Zechs is going to take care of this and make sure that little faggot stays away from Heero. Smart mouthed little liar - he thinks I don’t know what he is, what he’s trying to do with Heero. But I know. He’s going to drag Heero down with him and ruin his life if I don’t fix this. Get Zechs. Zechs will make sure he stays away.”  
“Odin - who are you talking about?”  
“That brat Maxwell adopted. He’s been trying to ruin Heero’s life since the day they met. But my son is not a faggot and I am not going to let that kid do this to him. Zechs is going to show him exactly what we think of his kind. Just get Zechs.”


End file.
